Second Chances
by Lola Louise
Summary: Now that Lucy's dead, will Sweeney Todd seize the Second Chance he's been given and see what's right in front of him? Alternate ending. Sweenett. Rated for mature themes. Based on the movie. Read and REVIEW, please!
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:** The romantic in me is basically forcing me to re-write the ending to "Sweeney Todd". So, the following is how I would have ended the movie. In my mind, this is the version with Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter and how they portrayed the characters. (it's rated M for upcoming chapters). _

_**It's not completed yet**, but I'll slowly be cranking 'er out whenever I have the time. If you've stumbled across my first fanfic EVER and are reading this, feedback would be completely appreciated. Please review so I can make this fic absolutely awesome! Reviews also motivate me to keep writing... _

_I'm a perfectionist, and am not completely happy with everything I've posted thus far. (particularly Ch. 2) So I'm constantly updating and reposting various sections throughout._

**_DISCLAIMER: I am not and never will be the owner of Sweeney Todd or any of its affiliates. _**

* * *

Mr. Todd threw open the door to the dimly lit bake house; the scent of death hitting his nostrils like a stone wall. He had only been down there once before, but the smell still remained the same. The blazing inferno of the bake oven cast eerie shadows on the walls of the dark enclosure.

His surroundings temporarily dazed him, until Mrs. Lovett's scream echoed through his subconscious. He looked to the pile of bodies; his victims, to see Mrs. Lovett attempting to drag one of the corpses closer to the oven for disposal.

"Wot's 'appened? Why did you scream?" Mr. Todd asked of Mrs. Lovett.

"Oh, i's nothin' love, jus' one 'o' your victims held on to life a bit longer than the rest, is all. You've 'ad a rough night, Mr. T, why don't you go upstairs and pour yourself a nice spot 'o' gin, eh? Jus' let me clean up this awful mess," Mrs. Lovett responded.

She stood up straight and brushed herself off. She rose her hand to her forehead, wiping away beads of sweat and leaving traces of spilled blood behind. She then gazed over at Mr. Todd, looking the man she loved in the face after all that happened.

All the blood gruesomely splattered across his face initially shocked her, but she was relieved to see he was still her same old Mr. T. Nothing in his eyes had changed.

"No. Open the oven door," he commanded of Mrs. Lovett. He hated the way she had to be in control of every situation, how she felt everything needed a sufficient explanation… She faltered, seeming not to want to move from her location.

He felt the intensity of her wide, doe-eyed stare, a mixture of fear and reluctance pouring out of them.

"I told you to OPEN it! Now!" He yelled at her. She knew that look in his eyes, and knew better than to be told once more; she had the bruises to prove it… She opened the door to the oven, the great heat of it splashing across her face.

The light illuminated the room, and made clear the faces of the bodies lying lifeless on the cold, blood-moistened stone. Mrs. Lovett's eyes quickly fell upon the one woman Mr. Todd had ever taken the life of, and prayed he wouldn't step closer to her… It would ruin everything…

Her eyes quickly darted back to him. She simply couldn't help it. Even with his grotesquely blood-painted face, he was still so handsome, especially with the light hitting him the way it was. She felt the familiar waves of desire rush through her body, the same way they did whenever she looked at him.

Mr. Todd scowled at Mrs. Lovett; he hated it when she stared at him like that. He didn't know why, but whenever those big brown eyes settled on him, he felt so… exposed to the world. He hated the honesty behind them; they were almost like those of a child. Whenever he looked into them, it was like his soul; his entire being was reflected back at him in the most hauntingly honest way… The way her innocence, her genuinely gentle heart shone through them, quivering with fear…

No. He couldn't think about that woman's eyes right now. He pushed Mrs. Lovett from his mind. He simply needed to see the Judge's lifeless face once more before he disposed the evidence of his past. He stepped closer to him.

As he did, the lunatic-beggar woman, lying lifeless in the firelight caught his eye. Despite the dirt and grime that had overtaken her, he could tell she had had, at one point or another, lovely yellow hair… Yellow hair.

With dexterity and grace he descended to his knees near the body's face… That familiar face, present in so many of his memories… Could it be... Could it really be her? He gently swept the hair from her face, allowing the light to play across it completely.

With the madness out of her limbs, gone out of her eyes… He realized he was staring into the face of her.

His wife. His Lucy.

His eyes became full of sorrow and his mouth opened slightly as he came to the realization that he had unknowingly killed his own wife.

"Oh my God…" he muttered, barely audible to anyone but himself.

He gently raised her head to his lap and lightly brushed his fingertips against hers.

"What have I done?"

His sorrow quickly changed to anger. This emotion was familiar to him, but… never quite like this. Never before with this burning intensity that he felt welling up behind his eyes; bubbling up inside his throat…

Mrs. Lovett remained standing near the oven, and her heart felt as if it was slowly sinking into her feet. Everything she had hoped for, her greatest dreams shattered to shards in that instant. He wasn't supposed to find out about her like this, if at all...

It brought tears to her eyes. Although she had never cared for Lucy; always felt as though she was never good enough for the Benjamin Barker she knew… Her love for Sweeney Todd made her instantly regret every ill-wish she had ever thought towards Lucy. But it didn't matter anymore.

"'Don't I know you?' She said to me." Mr. Todd said, his fingertips now tracing over Lucy's since-forgotten lips…

A little part of him died when he realized that he had forgotten her face completely, and remembered it now only because it was right in front of him. Gazing into her lifeless face brought back the last day he was with his Lucy, with his beautiful baby girl… She had been living this dreadful way for fifteen years, suffering a fate worse than his own, with her life brought to a close by her husband's hand. The irony of it all was too much for him to handle in that moment.

But… he had thought she'd taken a poison…

"You," he growled. Mrs. Lovett remained motionless, but her eyes began to grow wide with fear. This was exactly the thing she had been trying to prevent all along, since the day he showed up in her shop. She braced herself; she knew this was going to get really ugly really fast…

"You knew she lived! YOU LIED!" He was no longer in control of his actions; he was racing towards Mrs. Lovett's retreating body. "YOU FILTHY WENCH!" He screamed as he slapped her across the face. She was so taken aback by his sudden movements she fell to the floor, shaking with terror.

"No, sir, I never lied to you, I said she took a poison, never said that she died, poor thing…" She clambered back onto her feet, and he clenched his hands around her throat as he slammed her frail body up against the wall. Her head made a sickening thud as it hit the stone. Her eyes fluttered wildly, seemingly unable to focus. The stench of the blood made her feel lightheaded and sick to her stomach as she opened her mouth, gasping for air.

Mr. Todd lowered one hand to where he kept his razors as he looked at her with fury in his eyes… He raised the precious silver above his head, catching the light and making it dance about the room.

"Wait Mr. T! Please sir, I was only thinkin' 'o' you! I didn' think you'd want to see 'er like that! I only did wot I did because I love you!"

Finally. She had admitted it. There was no turning back now.

"I love you..."

She, who had always prided herself on being strong, was on the verge of tears. Her entire life was flashing before her in the reflection of Mr. Todd's knife, terrified that her life would end at the hands of the man she was in love with. It couldn't end like this, not now…

He pressed the blade to her neck with force, but not enough to penetrate her porcelain skin. She closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting to die as just another one of Sweeney Todd's victims.

"We all deserve to die, Mrs. Lovett," he grumbled at her, with a slight hint of sarcasm in his voice. He could feel her trembling underneath his blade; felt her rapid pulse quicken and felt her warm, shaky breath against his face.

His lips contorted into a demonic grin as he slowly drew the blade across her neck, making a slight cut in her paper skin. She sharply exhaled; obviously surprised he had actually drawn her blood. He watched it slowly trickle down her narrow neck…

But somehow... the sight of her blood didn't bring him relief like the others' had, leaving him with a feeling of unease.

"Mr. Todd, please, 'ave mercy…" she whispered fervently, her voice barely audible and faltering from holding back tears. His musky, delicious scent intoxicated her even further, making her attempt grasp on to every last bit of consciousness she could muster.

"The Lucy you knew- died when she- took that poison. I didn't lie-" Mrs. Lovett pleaded, her windpipe still constricted by Mr. Todd's strong hand.

"You know what, Mrs. Lovett?" Mr. Todd said, still in his sickeningly sarcastic tone of voice, his face dangerously close to hers. Her eyes grew even wider, much to his surprise; he didn't think it possible...

He released his grip on her neck and she instantly stumbled away from his presence, massaging her neck and gasping for oxygen. Never once did she take her eyes off of him, however. She wasn't about to be caught off guard again; she couldn't just give up now... Her already wild hair was coming undone, and some of her brown and ratty curls fell down around her shoulders.

"You're absolutely right, Mrs. Lovett! Life is for the alive. And like you've said countless times, my pet, there's no point in dwelling on the past!" He put his barber knife away, and was practically shouting at her now. She looked at him with fear in her eyes; not for her own life, but fear for the possibility that he really had finally lost his marbles.

"Come here, my love! You're a bloody wonder, Mrs. Lovett and appropriate as always!" He said, and Mrs. Lovett, entranced by his words; his motives... and moved closer to him with curiosity in her heart. In what direction was he taking all this?

"Not a thing to fear my love, what's dead is dead!" He swept her up in his arms as they danced their oh-so-familiar dance from happier days before. He looked down into her eyes, which were sparkling beautifully in the firelight, reflecting the joy within them in light of recent events.

"Oh, Mr. Todd, I'm so 'appy, I could eat you up, I really could…" she said. Her heart felt like it was about to burst; unable to contain the perfect bliss she was currently experiencing. This was the moment she had been waiting for for so long. He twirled her around the bake house, keeping them in perfect time. She could feel the heat, the passion radiating between them as they danced.

Maybe they really could get a house down by the seaside, just like she'd always dreamed of, and they could maybe still be married… It all just seemed too good to be true. She felt so safe in this place, behind the walls of his strong arms. This was so right, they were so perfect it was almost horribly wrong...

He picked up the tempo and swirled her around, a clear destination for her in his mind. She felt the heat increasing, and as she tore her gaze away from his onyx eyes, she noticed the oven was growing ever closer.

She gasped, whipping her head back up to meet his gaze. The happiness his eyes had been emanating just moments before had suddenly reverted back to the bloodthirsty, vengeful look she had grown so accustomed to. No, they weren't dancing anymore; he was only spinning her around for the distraction… He slightly tightened his grip around her waist.

She held her breath, swearing to herself that she would hold on to him, no matter what. She knew that the moment she let go would be her last.

"And life is for the alive my dear, so let's keep living it! Just keep living it! REALLY LIVING IT!"


	2. Chapter 2

_You could've been all I wanted  
But you weren't honest  
Now get in the ground  
You choked off the surest of favors  
But if you really loved me  
You would've endured my world._

**_Coheed and Cambria - Welcome Home_**

Mrs. Lovett clenched her eyes shut and buried her head into his neck as she clung onto Mr. Todd, literally hanging on to her life. If she didn't hold on, she would easily be burning alive in the oven with her latest batch of pies.

But despite her efforts, her naked back was still exposed to the flames, and her mouth opened to emit the most bloodcurdling, bone-chilling scream imaginable. She could feel her flesh burning up through her dress, and the white-hot, searing pain felt to her what she had always imagined entering hell would be like.

However, she still knew that as much as this felt like death now, it really would be her end if she let go.

Mr. Todd roared, enraged that Mrs. Lovett was still clutching on to him. He heaved her petite body away from him as easily as a rag doll, his ears still ringing from her piercing cries.

Her nearly defeated body fell face-down on the floor, her arms and legs heartbreakingly spread-eagled. Her back, raw and full of blisters was beginning to ooze a small amount of blood as she lay on the unforgiving stone, unconscious to the living world.

Mr. Todd slowly approached her, taking in the magnificent sight of her mangled back; of her blood slowly welling to the surface, preparing himself for the familiar feeling of great relief before he finished her off…

But it didn't come. Instead, with every step he took towards Mrs. Lovett, the more that strange feeling of unease settled into the pit of his stomach. Why the hell did this one insignificant woman affect him so, why couldn't he enjoy her pain like the rest?

He sat down, looking at Mrs. Lovett's now grimy and bloody face.

It was strange to him, seeing her like this. Mrs. Lovett wasn't one to stay still; she was always up and about; doing something. Her face was constantly so animated, so expressive. It was so different, in that light, from everyone elses'. It felt horribly wrong to see her now, her eyes closed and mouth open, with a small trail of blood trickling out from the impact of her fall…

He allowed his razor to fall from the grips of his fingers. Much as he hated himself for it, he knew he couldn't kill her tonight.

But… why?

He had killed countless, meaningless men; had endless shirts ruined because of all the blood. Every person in this world has done something to warrant their death, and every time he ran his razor through another deserving neck, he was doing the damned city of London a favor.

He thought of how badly the Judge had wronged him. That disgrace to mankind had ruined three lives; he had broken apart a family that had barely had a chance to live. Mr. Todd still couldn't understand how so much corruption; so much greed could reside in just one person.

The moment he had stabbed his razor into the Judge's throat, he felt his heart could finally be at rest. He glanced at his sleeve, which was completely saturated with Turpin's blood. It brought an extremely faint shadow of a smile to his lips.

His past was finally avenged. And the proof of it was splattered all over himself.

And Lucy. His hands clenched up into fists remembering what he had done to her. How had he so easily slit her throat, sending her to the cold, unforgiving clutches of death? He brought his face into the cradle of his cupped hands, trying to remember what had happened.

He remembered slamming open the door to his shop, and seeing her standing there, muttering wildly about the Beadle. She then acknowledged his hovering presence, coming uncomfortably close to him, telling him about the "evils of this place, how Mrs. Lovett was the devil's wife…"

Her face had been mere inches from his. And still he hadn't recognized her. "Don't I know you, mister?" she had asked him, her eyes wide with madness looking into his own. He had written her statement off as lunacy when he heard Turpin running up the stairs, and… and then he killed her.

Just like all the rest. He remembered that red veil cascading down her neck before he had sent her corpse plummeting down to the bake house below.

But… she had been so close to him! Had he really forgotten her face? He punched a slightly disheveled stone in the floor as he remembered one day that Mrs. Lovett had came up to bring him some breakfast. He disliked how she was always fussing over him, but he remembered the question she asked that morning.

"Can I ask you a question, Mr. T?" she had said. He was still gazing out into the dismal streets of London, watching the people walk by, as they did every day of their lives.

"Wot?" he had uttered, irritated she wasn't just going to give him the food and leave.

There had been a moment of silence between them.

"What did your Lucy look like?" His heart fell and he remembered scrunching up his eyebrows in the attempt to remember his own wife's face. But he couldn't do it.

"She had yellow hair," he had muttered half-heartedly. Was that really all he could remember of that beautiful, lovely, perfect…

He was suddenly brought out of the deep realms of his mind by a slight sigh from Mrs. Lovett. Mr. Todd looked back at her face, and her eyes were open again; focused on him. They had a tiredness in them now, an almost… defeated quality in them.

And they remained staring into one another's eyes for what seemed an eternity, silently trying to comprehend one another until a single tear rolled down Mrs. Lovett's cheek, leaving a trail in the dirt on her face. He looked away, not prepared to see such honesty splashed across her face.

She took a few moments to try and breathe properly before she opened her mouth to speak.

"Mr. Todd…" she whispered; it was obviously hard for her to speak at all. He again met her gaze, leaning in slightly so he could hear her.

"I… am so, so sorry. I should of… told you straigh' away wot had happened… to Lucy. I… wos wrong." Her words were coming slowly, partly because she could barely breathe and partly because she was fighting back tears. Her expression of extreme apology and sadness gained a slightly confused overtone.

"Mr. T… I lied to you… I… am the reason… she's gone. Why haven't you... killed me?" Her tears were falling fast now.

"Shhhhhhh…" he said, quieting her. His eyes lingered on Mrs. Lovett's pitiable face for a moment longer before he slowly retrieved his razor from the ground. He just needed to see if this would work…

Mrs. Lovett saw him picking up his razor, and she exhaled shakily as she prepared herself to die. She was in an unbelievable amount of pain, so much she simply thought that dying would be a quiet relief…

But she knew in her heart she wasn't ready to leave this world yet. There was still so much she wanted to see and do; so much she wanted to become. She began picturing everything in her life that had truly meant something to her… She recalled peaceful evenings spent with her dear Albert, sitting in companionship by the warmth of the flickering fire glow… She remembered her mother, whispering sweet lullabies, lulling her to sleep… She remembered the day Benjamin and Lucy Barker arrived at her doorstep, desperately seeking a place to stay…

Mr. Todd came closer to her, razor in hand, but… he didn't have that bloodthirsty look in his eyes. He, instead of slitting her throat right then and there, began rolling up her sleeve. At that point she would have allowed him to do anything to her; she was too weak to fight him, but what on earth was he doing...?

He firmly gripped her thin elbow, bringing the razor up to her forearm. She felt him very slightly penetrating her skin, and then felt a small, warm trail of blood flowing down her arm.

Mr. Todd threw his razor away from him, causing it to clatter loudly against the floor. Even this small amount of blood on her arm made him feel… what was this feeling? Regret?

Well, whatever it was, it was a new sensation to Sweeney Todd.

And he wasn't sure he was okay with it.

They were both silent. Mr. Todd was fighting an inner battle- he wasn't sure of who he was; what he stood for anymore. And Mrs. Lovett was crying softly, nervously awaiting her death. Finally she spoke.

"Mr. T… please… don't… make me wait… in agony… like this." She swallowed, tasting a little blood as it went down her throat.

"Please… jus'… kill me… now. If… I'm going to die tonigh'… I'd rather… it be by your 'ands. I… am like… the rest. I… deserve… it," Mrs. Lovett whispered, knowing she had never spoken truer words in her life.

Mr. Todd blinked uncomfortably at her confessions. He flashed a quick glance down at her face and quickly looked away.

"You're not going to die tonight, Mrs. Lovett," he uttered. He still couldn't bear to look her in the face. He heard her exhale sharply, still crying…

"We need to get you upstairs. Your back needs tending to."

She smiled lightly at his words. Her heart swelled a little when she realized he was… showing her compassion? But she quickly restrained herself; she wasn't sure she should love him anymore… He was so caught up in the past, too stubborn to let it rest. And how could she trust him anymore? Constantly so unpredictable… He had tried to kill her twice in one night, for God's sake…

And yet he was going to let her live.

"I'm afraid… I'll need some 'elp… getting up those stairs," Mrs. Lovett said, somehow managing to smile through all the pain she was suffering through.

Mr. Todd hesitated for a moment before he gave placed his hand in hers and lightly placed his other hand on the small of her back to help her stand up. She did so extremely slowly, and he could see the purple bruises beginning to flower on her neck…

She held onto his shoulders for support until he picked her up like a child, and she wrapped her legs around his torso; her arms loosely draped around his neck. Mrs. Lovett turned her head into the curve of his shoulder, inhaling his intoxicating aroma.

And as they slowly ascended the stairs, she felt so peaceful in his arms; in the cool night air she could almost forget her pain…


	3. Chapter 3

They slowly entered Mrs. Lovett's pie shop; Mr. Todd becoming increasingly careful to not jostle her in any agonizing way. Once they reached the main living area, he carefully helped her to the couch where she slowly laid down on her stomach. He almost felt as if he were putting a sleepy child to bed.

The fire burning in the hearth illuminated her body, highlighting her accumulated injuries from the evening. The now rusty brown bloodstains and vivid red burns contrasted heavily against her snowy skin. Her breathing slowed as her eyes closed, trying to relax. Her weary body and mind so desperately needed the rest.

"I'm going to get something to bandage that back of yours. I'll be right back," Sweeney said slowly, still unable to bring himself to look into her eyes. He left the room and went to get a bed sheet as a makeshift bandage.

Mrs. Lovett watched him exit the room, and was left alone with her thoughts and pain. What, exactly, was going on? His unstableness scared her so much. He was a danger to be around, and could transition from being merely a sullen barber to a bloodthirsty murderer in less than a heartbeat.

She just… couldn't understand what had made Mr. Todd spare her life like that. She had lied to him; she had hurt him so badly… And she had seen firsthand how easily he took the lives of innocent people; she witnessed the ruthless revenge he harbored against his enemies…

But the way he was caring for her now reminded her of how it had been fifteen years before.

Whenever she had obtained a burn from that bloody oven, or accidentally cut one of her fingers, Benjamin Barker would always come to her aid. He had always been there if she needed stitching up…

She then remembered all the pleasant, sunny afternoons they had spent chatting together in the dining room about anything and everything under the sun while Lucy did her shopping. Mrs. Lovett had always been full of amusing stories from her customers and passers-by in the marketplace; her laughter always complementing them in the perfect way. Her eyes had sparkled and her teeth flashed as she smiled back then…

And Benjamin had always laughed right along with her, his eyes dancing with mirth to match her own. They really had been friends at one point. But the sound of her own laughter seemed so far away now; distantly echoing through her past…

Mr. Todd returned, breaking Mrs. Lovett away from her memories and back into the present. He had a clean, white bed sheet, a bowl of water and a small rag in his hands. He set these things down on the coffee table, and expertly began to cut up the sheet with his razor to make appropriate bandages. She had slowly arisen into a sitting position at his presence, and he carried the pile of ripped fabric over to the couch, sitting behind her.

He immediately began to loosen her corset, and Mrs. Lovett's breath caught in her lungs when she realized what he was doing. She knew it was just to put on her bandage, but… she couldn't help but smile a little.

Once the singed corset was completely removed; her broken, porcelain skin fully exposed, he began to wrap her torso. His hands were steady and sure, and only faltered slightly when he reached her chest. His touch became more delicate; carefully avoiding direct contact with her breasts.

She stopped breathing completely as she felt his fingers lightly feather over her breasts, and as he continued wrapping he could feel her heartbeat intensify as the bandage was secured.

Mr. Todd looked away from her bandaged back as it rose and fell with her every breath; he had accomplished his task. He then moistened the rag, feeling the cool water slide pleasantly through his hands, completely mesmerized by its caressing smoothness.

Mrs. Lovett turned towards him, needing to look into his eyes and somehow thank him for so tenderly caring for her… But her eyes suddenly clenched shut; the burns on her back sending a rush of pain rampaging through her senses. Just when she had thought the pain couldn't get any worse…

She brought her head to her hands, doubled over and using every ounce of willpower she had to stop herself from completely breaking down in her current state of anguish. She bit down excruciatingly hard on her lip, determined not to show weakness in front of Mr. Todd. But as small beads of blood fell from her lips, a small cry escaped from her throat. She realized that her back had merely been numb before as the true level of pain from the injury overthrew her body.

Mr. Todd turned back towards Mrs. Lovett, seeing a small, red bead fall from her lips. He then withdrew his hands from the bowl and draped the cool, moist cloth around her neck. Her breathing instantaneously became less labored, and her shaking fingers went up to take the cloth from her nape as she slowly sat up.

As quickly as the pain had come, it went away. She unwrapped the fabric, cool drops of water penetrating the fabric of her dress. She pressed it to her face, wiping away the dirt and blood from the bake house.

Mr. Todd strenuously stared at the silver bowl of water, not wanting to look at or think about Mrs. Lovett at all. He couldn't understand why he felt so compelled to take care of her. Perhaps it was simply because without her, his revenge wouldn't be possible... yes, that must be it. And yet... whenever she was around, the demons of his past seemed to fade away, and he almost felt... human again. And he wasn't sure whether to love or hate her for it.

As she finished dabbing at her lips, leaving a small curve of crimson on the dirty cotton, she again focused her attentions onto Mr. Todd. She deeply inhaled, and then slowly lowered her hand onto his shoulder. He turned and moved his head closer to hers, but never directly looking her in the eye. Her eyes drank in the sight of his now unsoiled face as though she had been deprived of looking at it for years. She was trying to locate every tiny hint of emotion in every crevice of his handsome features, trying to gauge what he was feeling…

She slowly inched closer to him until finally she placed a light kiss; full of sweetness onto his forehead. And as she pulled away, Mr. Todd's colorless skin was still tingling from where her lips had touched him. He immediately stood up and turned around to face her, not feeling comfortable under her sudden sign of affection. She stared at him for a while with her great, doe eyes, reading him like a book.

"I jus'… I jus' wanted to thank you, Mr. T. You… you 'ave showed me mo' mercy tonigh' than I deserve," she whispered, glancing down at his worn-out shoes.

He quickly averted his gaze to the blaze in the fireplace, the flames reflected in his cold, black eyes. He was now regretting helping her; for sparing her existence. He knew somewhere in his subconscious she had done only what she had thought was best, but… now his Lucy was lying dead in the bake house. Her blood still remained on his hands. He had thought he had spent the past fifteen years in waiting, but he now knew he had spent them in vain.

The flames seemed to be absorbed through his eyes and channeled directly into his fury. Faster than Mrs. Lovett could react, he had whipped out his razor and was again pressing it to her neck. She sat completely motionless, not having the chance to react to his brashness.

"You really are a bloody wonder, Mrs. Lovett," Mr. Todd growled at her, obstructing his typically smooth intonation. His teeth were clenched together in resentment for her and for himself, knowing he still couldn't kill her tonight.

"But keep in mind, my dear," he said as he enhanced his hold upon her using his other hand, "While I did indeed spare your trivial, insignificant life, remember… I can take it away just as easily." He glared at her for one more instant before storming angrily out of the room.

Mrs. Lovett remained at a standstill, her eyes quivering in the firelight as tears welled up within them. She shakily exhaled and gazed up at the ceiling, almost as if she were staring up at God, demanding a reason for all the appalling experiences she had been put through after sundown. She shook her head as her eyes flitted back to the fire. She knew, no matter how much she didn't want to admit it to herself, that life couldn't continue like this…

She felt her heart swell with joy and misery as the knowledge washed over her that she couldn't, and wouldn't love that… that insufferable demon anymore. It would be difficult, she knew, but… this one-sided love affair had really begun to take its toll on her. She would remain his business associate and proprietor only. It would take vast amounts of time for her to carry out, but…

Her blood encrusted lips quivered into a smile as she realized… she could be free. After fifteen years of being entrapped by the memories of Benjamin Barker, she could finally be released from the iron bars of her own heart. It was almost sick, the amount of euphoria and adrenaline flooding through her every vein in that moment.

She all but leapt to her feet at the realization that the authorities would be poking around tomorrow in search of the Beadle and Judge Turpin. In a complete blur of elation she gathered her cleaning supplies, and started ascending the staircase to Mr. Todd's barber shop. She knew he wouldn't be up there, and those bloodstains needed to vanish before morning…

She threw open the door, the bell above the entrance chiming to announce her entrance. Her poor Albert's chair was soaked and surrounded with blood; and it was also gruesomely splattered on the large window implanted in the roof.

"Ugh. All that blood," she muttered to herself as she took in the vast amount of blood. She winced as she lowered herself to the floorboards, but she shook away the slight twinge of pain and began to scrub the blood away, pouring the bleach she kept up in his parlor onto the floor as she went.

She almost felt relieved to be cleaning and washing things up; making them like new again. No matter what the circumstances, she always felt most comfortable falling back onto her most basic instincts.

* * *

Mr. Todd was kneeling by the earthly remains of his wife, the mortal constraints of time and space not even beginning to register in his uneasy mind. How had Lucy allowed herself to fall so far? She had always been quiet, and preferred to observe the bustling world around her from the window they had had in their bedroom.

But he had always felt she was so strong; the only reason he remained sane from the trials the unforgiving city of London offered him. He knew he couldn't even begin to understand what she had gone through after being violated by the revolting Judge, but… she had then just left Johanna to fend for herself. His eyes narrowed with anger and frustration at himself… and at Lucy. He was just… so livid that she had abandoned their daughter like that; just given up all hope. She had lost all faith in the fact that he would someday return for her and Johanna, their beautiful Johanna…

She had lost so much trust in the human race and in her own existance that she had wanted to take her own life. She had let her past blind her from seeing that her daughter still relied on her to survive.

He pounded his fists into the relentless stone floor, scraping away a bit of skin from his knuckles as a cry of rage emerged from his throat. He detested himself for even thinking such things of her; for disgracing her memory this way. But deep in his heart he knew that… that all of it was true; Mrs. Lovett hadn't lied…

He glanced once more at her lifeless face, his lips drawn up into a slight smile as recollections of her washed over him. Of her smiling and laughing, bringing him joy on the nights they spent together watching their newborn daughter peacefully sleep... He hesitated before he placed a kiss onto her icy lips, full of memories and love for the past they had so happily shared together.

He then took her body tenderly into his arms and carried her over to the oven. The door was still standing open, and he took one more desperate look at her beautiful, flawless face; one last glance into his past before he put her into the oven, watching her body swiftly being engulfed in the flames.

He quickly averted his eyes from her now blazing corpse, and his gaze fell upon the bodies of Turpin and the Beadle. He dragged their bodies simultaneously closer to the oven, his face painted with an expression of disgust as he observed their lifeless features.

Once there was no evidence of his beautiful wife left in the oven, he heaved the carcass of the Beadle into the fire, which was followed closely by the body of the Judge. He smiled as the flames engulfing their corpses danced in his eyes, the knowledge sweeping over him that his past was, at long last, completely avenged. The world was finally rid of the malevolent Judge Turpin. He smiled, observing his life-long foes discentegrate in the flames before bolting the oven door securely shut.

He turned around to face the bake house, now a horrific sight. He surveyed all the blood everywhere, which looked like something from the most dreadful of nightmares… And the realization that the law would be there tomorrow in search of the Beadle and Judge Turpin settled over him like a black veil.

He immediately began to cleanse the bake house of the evidence of his victims with the large tubs of water Mrs. Lovett kept at hand; thankful he had disposed of all the other carcasses the evening before. And he washed away the abundance of blood, his head completely void of all other thoughts.

After all the difficult deliberating he had done that evening, it felt… pleasant to think of nothing but the blood running down into the depths of the sewers.

* * *

_I'd just like to thank everyone for reading this! And I apologize; this chapter was a bit slow in my opinion. Things will pick up considerably in the next chapter. And also, I haven't forgotten about Toby!  
Now that summer's officially here, chapters should be coming more frequently. I love getting feedback; reviews are what keep me movivated! wink wink nudge nudge Thanks so much to the people who have favorited/alerted this story, by the way. It makes me feel all speshul inside. :)_

_SNOOGINS_


	4. Chapter 4

_First of all, I'd love to say a big thanks to everyone who's been reading this story! And I have to apologize, this turned out to be a bit of another slow chapter. But lots of important revelations within all the characters had to take place somewhere... _

_OOH! I've been hoping that maybe some of you know how to take movie clips from the DVD and put them into Windows Movie Maker. I've been dying to make a few music videos for Sweeney; I've got some perfect songs in mind... If anyone knows and is willing to pass their knowledge onto me, it would be greatly appreciated. XD_

_Anyways, onto the fourth chapter. :)_

* * *

Mrs. Lovett, having assured herself Mr. T's parlor was completely spotless, collapsed into her favorite chair in front of the fireplace. The ecstasy that had carried her through her cleaning frenzy was wearing off, and she could now feel how truly exhausted she was. But she didn't want to let herself fall asleep; terrified to discover the nightmares embedded in her subconcious.

In the attempt to ward off the extremely present fatigue settling in over her eyes, she grabbed the book that was sitting at her side, desperately trying to stay awake. Her eyes scanned over the words, but none of them registered in her overtired and overworked mind.

She snapped it shut, almost laughing at herself. She had nearly been killed three times that evening, and here she was, sitting by the fire and reading a book...

And as she sat there, her eyes flickering from shadow to shadow around the room, she began to feel incredibly claustrophobic; as if someone was watching her. She slowly arose to her feet, not wanting to put herself in any more pain. Standing up was so agonizing, but she just couldn't bring herself to stay still…

Gradually, she made her way outside, hoping the wide expanse of the night sky could shake away this feeling that was eating away at her inside. She leaned against a hard, wooden fencepost, not trusting her legs to do their job alone. But as she glanced up at the fog-veiled stars, she realized that even the sky was too small to contain her tragedy. Feeling completely hopeless, she turned to go back inside and up to her bedroom; she really did need to sleep…

However, her ears detected the sound of footsteps in the alley across from her pie shop.

She cautiously walked to the other side of Fleet Street, praying it was just her lightheadedness playing tricks on her. Her own footsteps made slight pattering noises on the cobblestone, intensifying her already rapid pulse. Her heart plunged down into her stomach.

What if someone had seen the Beadle and the Judge go up to Mr. T's... and never come back down? She and Mr. T could easily get away with everything they had done the past couple weeks with a few quick lies, but if someone had witnessed what happened tonight… It would ruin that fateful chance. She swallowed as she pressed herself up against the brick wall of a building, attempting to make herself as inconspicuous as possible. Perhaps it had only been a stray cat that bloody old Mrs. Mooney had missed…

But the noise threateningly arose again from the alleyway; the shuffling sound of footsteps sluggishly approaching her location. It wasn't a man's footsteps, she realized, they were far too light and petite… She poked her head around the corner, eager to catch a glimpse of whomever was disturbing the haunting silence that night produced. The vision of a short and shadowed outline greeted her eyes, as the realization that it was merely a child who had been generating this unease settled over her mind.

A slight twinge of sorrow pierced through her already aching heart. No child should be forced into the grimy alleyways of London, especially at this hour of the evening… She slowly moved toward the child, not wanting him, or her, to be frightened.

"Are you alrigh', dearie?" Mrs. Lovett asked, her voice sweet and syrupy. The child turned around, revealing a dark shock of hair and his dirty, tear-streaked face. Her hand clasped to her mouth, stifling a gasp of intense relief at the fact that she had found her Toby. He was safe, he was alright... She immediately ran closer to him before crouching down to throw her arms around him. She clutched him close to her, and as she ruffled his hair with her fingers she broke down sobbing.

"Oh, son… I've been so worried abou' you," she managed to pronounce above her shaky, irregular breathing. Until that moment that he was safe in her arms, she hadn't honestly realized how worried she truly was about him...

She kissed the side of his head as she drew him away from her torso, surveying his dirty face. Toby looked away from her, as if determined not to accept whatever was coming out of her mouth. Mrs. Lovett drew up her eyebrows in hurt confusion at the boy's behavior.

"Toby, love… please, look a' me. Please, son…" she whispered, pained that he wasn't even looking at her. That was something Mr. T did to her when she spoke, never her Toby…

He wriggled his shoulders out of her grasp and angrily took several steps away from her, looking into her face, with hurt painted over his brown eyes.

"I'm no son o' yours! You been lyin' to me this 'ole time, an'… an' you've been lettin' Mr. T ge' away with murder! No, you... you been 'elpin 'im! You been bakin' people into pies! I's…I's disgusting!" Toby was screaming, trying so hard to show her just how fed up he was. And he was; his first sentence bringing more pain to Mrs. Lovett than she thought possible. It hurt her, to hear him speak this way...

"Mr. T is a bad man, an' I'm not gonna let 'im 'urt you or anybody else ever again!" He paused after he said this, and his lower lip and chin began to quiver as he tried to hold back tears.

"I'm gonna go to the law!" Tears began sliding down his cheek, his voice faltering now. "I s-swear to God in 'eaven… I will," he said before completely breaking down; his attempt to hold strong shattered in an instant. Seeing the boy who Mrs. Lovett had claimed as her own fall apart like that broke her heart. And knowing she was the reason for it killed her.

A pitiful gasp emerged from her own throat to match Toby's as she began to cry right along with him. She again took him into her arms, and they collapsed into one another, both heaving with sorrow.

"You're absolutely righ', love… 'E can be a monster, I know, believe me, I know..." she choked out, her accent much thicker underneath her tears. "Bu' Toby… you 'ave to undehstand… Mr. T's been livin'in 'ell for so long, 'e's been through so much. 'Is mind is so far away from this world, so full 'o' revenge… But… 'e... 'e deserves his vengeance." She wasn't sure anymore if she was saying all this for Toby's sake or for her own. Another sob escaped her throat as she pulled Toby closer to her, clutching the back of his head into her shoulder. She felt as if all her emotions were intensified ten times that evening, hitting her like a sack of bricks every time she thought about practically anything…

"I know 'e's been through some dreadful things, mum, bu'… Why do you 'elp 'im? He hurts you mum, I know where you got those bruises on your neck there…" Toby asked her, his voice timid as his crying began to cease. Mrs. Lovett closed her eyes at his words, knowing she was going to hate herself for answering him honestly. She drew Toby away from her, her hands still firmly grasping his shoulders.

"Because I love him," she whispered, her voice trembling with the trueness of the statement. "I know you can't undehstand why… I can't undehstand it meself anymo'. An' you're righ', love, 'e 'urt me somethin' dreadful tonigh'… Bu' it won't be 'appening anymo'. Especially if I've go' you 'round to protect, me, eh?" She was trying so hard to convince him that everything was alright, she drew up her lips into a quivering smile; mildly comforted by the fact that things really would be different from now on.

"Bu' Toby, son… you've got to promise me something. Can you do that, love?" Mrs. Lovett asked. She needed to make sure he wouldn't go running off to the law, like he said… it would spell out certain death for the lot of them…

Toby nodded, and she could practically feel his innocence radiating from his eyes. "Anythin' fo' you, mum. Bu' for you, I'd be back in the workhouse…" he mumbled, gazing down at the ground, plagued with horrid memories of that place. Mrs. Lovett placed one hand underneath his chin, bringing his gaze back up to meet her own.

"Swear to me tha' you won' tell a soul abou' wot me and Mr. T 'ave been up to." Toby opened his mouth to protest. "If you do, we're both dead!" Mrs. Lovett said, raising her voice to silence the boy; praying to persuade him. Her voice was more stern, more serious as she spoke to him than it ever had been before. This had to work...

But could she defy death's clutches yet again that evening?

After what seemed to be a silent eternity, Toby looked up to meet her demanding eyes. "Alrigh', mum. I'll do it fo' you, an' only you. I swear to you tha'… I won' tell a soul abou' anythin'. An' don' you worry, mum, I'll make sure that nothin', no' even Mr. T will harm you. I swear it." Toby said, with a sense of solemnity that was far beyond his years. Mrs. Lovett voiced her relief with a large sigh.

"Tha's a good lad," she whispered, kissing his dirty forehead. "Why don't we press on home an' get you cleaned up. You look a fright," she said, almost giggling at how filthy the poor boy was. Toby smiled, and Mrs. Lovett took his hand as they walked together back to the pie shop.

* * *

Sweeney Todd was pacing back and forth in his astonishingly clean barber shop. The last time he had been up here, everything had been covered in Judge Turpin's blood, including himself...

He paused for a moment, recalling the life slowly draining from the Judge's face. Sweeney closed his eyes and deeply inhaled, reliving the very moment he had been reborn to experience. He slowly lifted his eyelids, the sight of the spotlessly clean room greeting them again.

Bloody, insufferable woman. He kicked the chair sitting in the center of the room at the mere thought of Mrs. Lovett. Had she really thought he was just going to leave all the blood there, as if it were decoration more suited to his tastes? She was so… so... he didn't even know what to think of her anymore.

He sat down in the chair, ignoring the dull throbbing sensation in his foot. He tipped his head back, his mind swimming with all that had happened because of Mrs. Lovett's lie. He had been reunited with his Lucy in death; in that moment he had swiftly sliced his razor through her neck. But… had Mrs. Lovett truly lied to him?

Lucy had obviously taken a poison that pushed her over that delicate line into insanity. The Lucy that Benjamin Barker had so dearly loved had, indeed, been dead for fifteen years. And… and even if she hadn't taken that poison, remained as beautiful, virtuous and loving as he remembered; even if she hadn't abandoned Johanna… His hands clenched into fists at the thought that she had left their child to the terrible fate of fifteen years with the Judge.

What would Lucy think of Sweeney Todd? She had been such a lady, always proper, and... he knew she would have seen Sweeney for the monster he was. She would never love somebody like that. He had become the kind of person she would have despised; avoided in the streets…

No. Mrs. Lovett hadn't lied, he had know that before...

Both Lucy and Benjamin Barker had been dead for years. And now, with the Judge dead and gone, they could both finally rest in peace. And Sweeney Todd could finally stop dwelling on someone else's past.

Despite his efforts to restrain his wandering mind, his thoughts drifted back to Mrs. Lovett. Nellie Lovett, though he felt her name really didn't suit her at all… He didn't understand how one tiny woman could be so damn infuriating! Always chattering away when she was with him, trying to cross the gaping void his silences offered her. She was constantly bringing him trays of food, constantly telling him to get some sleep… It drove him mad, her driving concern for his well-being.

And why the hell did she care for him so much? He knew he was nothing but rude towards her, he was downright violent with her sometimes… Not only did it show her who held the upper hand between them, it made him feel... powerful to feel her thin, porcelain neck trembling underneath his glistening razor. Yet she still toiled away, night into day and day into night in that bakehouse, grinding up his victims to be served to her customers. She still washed all his shirts, washed away all the blood… But why did she do it?

He arose to his feet, walking over to stare into the dark, unforgiving nighttime streets of London. Suddenly, he noticed shadows flickering on the brick wall across the street. He remained at the window, transfixed. If anyone had seen what had happened that night, he was done for… But two figures emerged from the shadowy alley, and he immediately recognized them to be Mrs. Lovett and Toby, useless boy… But his dark, sinister eyes followed her figure, drinking in her features even from a distance.

He spun swiftly around, switching his back towards the window. The realization that his sole purpose in life had been accomplished slapped him across the face. And now what did he have to live for? It wasn't like he could leave this place, he had nowhere else to run to… Yes, he would have to remain here... with Mrs. Lovett. He could still run his barber shop, and he supposed he could feel his razor slice effortlessly through a deserving throat every now and then, but…

His mind flashed to earlier that evening, when he had removed her corset to reveal the womanly curves that lay beneath. Her fair, snowy skin had temporarily blinded him, and the thought sent his mind quickly back into the moments he was living now. It had been _far_ too long since he had caressed the soft, smooth skin of a woman; too long since he had had an outlet for his pent up lust… Fifteen years, in fact...

And he was astonished it hadn't occurred to him earlier. Here was a woman, hopelessly devoted to him and obviously willing… How couldn't she be, running around in those ridiculously revealing dresses all the time… While it wasn't a purpose to live, he knew, this could keep him occupied for now. Maybe this could help him stop constantly toiling away about his past...

His pale lips formed a half smile as he threw open the door to his shop and descended the stairs to reach her pie shop. No, Mrs. Nellie Lovett had nowhere to run this time…

_So, a lot of this was just the inner-ramblings of Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney, but again, keep in mind just how much has happened to these two in the last three hours or so... I'd want to just slow down and think too. :P _

_Also, as you can tell from where I left off, there's obviously going to be more "action-y" stuff straight ahead.  
What I did with Sweeney scares me slightly in this chapter; I can't decide if it's OOC or not... Reviews always help me to figure that kind of thing out! _

_And I'm sure if you do, there's another free pie in it for ya... :) _


	5. Chapter 5

_'Ello loves! So, I started off super strong on this chapter... and then I watched Fight Club for the first time. Yes, I am aware it has been awesome since 1999. But I just discovered it the other day. :D Now, I have this weird thing where I automatically take on characteristics of my favorite character from a movie after I watch it. So I've been acting like Marla Singer the past two days (minus all the self-destructiveness) and that kind of inhibited my writing skills. So the end of it was hard to write.  
Anyways, I'd again love to say thanks to everyone reading this and not reviewing, 'cause it makes me happy to see my hits keep going up. Think it was at 900 last time I checked... And a huge bonus hug to those of you who review or favorite, or both! Sorry. I'll shut up now. XD Onto the chapter!! _

CHAPTER FIVE

After having drawn a bath for Toby, Mrs. Lovett found herself sitting in one of the hard, wooden chairs in the dining room. She had meant to sit down for only a moment, but the mere thought of climbing up a flight of stairs made her legs ache. So there she sat, nearly fifteen minutes after she had initially decided to sit down. And the longer she sat, the more the soreness settled into her limbs.

She wearily lifted her head from the cradle of her elbow, her eyes addressing the bottle of gin sitting in front of her. She set her head back down, trying to convince her throbbing limbs to sit up for a just a moment. She only needed a sip to help her drift off to sleep… Finally, after a lot of coaxing, she was scarcely able to bring herself into a sitting position; her body was so exhausted. Her fingers managed to clasp around the bottle, but as she brought it up to her lips, the door to her shop burst open, causing her to abruptly set it back down onto the table, her heart racing at the sudden noise.

"Mr. T! Wot the bloody 'ell do ya think you're doin'?" she half-yelled at him, once her brain had registered who the tall, dark frame was standing in her doorway. "Poppin' up out of nowhere, like some… some bloody jack-in-the-box from 'ell!" Mrs. Lovett shot him a poisonous glare before rising to her feet, wanting to get upstairs and put as much distance between herself and Sweeney Todd as was humanly possible.

Sweeney, however, had different ideas. He hunted her down, taking her as his prey. He seized her thin wrists, slamming her against a wall before raising her delicate arms above her head. Her eyes flared wide with rage; she was not going to let him harm her anymore. "Get. Away from me," she muttered in a low growl. She couldn't remember ever feeling this much wrath towards any one person before…

"Mrs. Lovett," Sweeney snarled to match Mrs. Lovett's tone of voice, "You really need to learn when to shut the hell up." He heatedly brought his lips down upon hers, pressing her arms more firmly against the wall. Mrs. Lovett's eyes opened wide with shock. What the hell was he doing? She couldn't taste alcohol on his breath, so she knew he wasn't drunk… Then it occurred to her… she could taste him. She had wanted this for so long…

She closed her eyes and pressed her mouth hungrily into his, her toungue eagerly plunging into his mouth, exploring his lips as he bit viciously down on her own. She whimpered as she felt him bite into the soft flesh of her already sore lip, before her eyes whipped open.

What the bloody hell was she doing? No! She wasn't going to let herself be manipulated by him anymore! The feeling of mind-numbing pleasure was rapidly overtaken by a pure feeling of anger she'd never felt before. She could literally feel the fury pulsing through her veins, blocking out her very sense of reality.

She jerked her head away from his, and her unexpected movements allowed her to break away from Sweeney's strong grip. Her tattered and worn dress swirled around her thin, but strong legs, giving him one more fuming glance before bolting up the stairs.

Sweeney remained standing against the wall, completely dumbfounded at the woman's behavior. After a minute or so, he wandered over to the table and sat down; his mind begging him to sort out its chaotic contents.

He raised a hand up to his lips, lightly brushing his index finger across them. His hand then quickly dropped down into his lap before grabbing the bottle of gin. Why the hell had she run away like that; looked at him like that before retreating up to her bedroom? Never once, since he had moved above her shop, now or fifteen years ago, had he seen her eyes radiate such… hatred.

She was always looking on the bright side of everything; always found something beautiful in every situation she came across. And he honestly couldn't understand how she did it. She spent her nights chopping and grinding up corpses, baking seemingly endless amounts of pies… Then she had to serve them to the disgusting vermin who inhabited the city of London, and deal with one brainless person after another. And from what he could tell, she did it all with a smile on her face.

But why had she looked at him with such loathing? This was the question that ate away at him most…

And the fact that it was bothering him was an even bigger problem He took another gulp of gin, wincing slightly as it went down.

He had been under the strong impression that she was completely enamored with him, and after that first instant he had crashed his lips onto hers… She had kissed him back, with equal force and obvious passion. Lucy had never once openly expressed such lust to him…

And the thought of Lucy caused the bottle of gin to crash to the floor, shattering to pieces before Sweeney Todd stormed up the stairs to his parlor.

* * *

'Damnit,' Mrs. Lovett thought as she heard the sound of glass smashing onto wood. 'And I just cleaned the floor…'

She shook her head, quickly realizing how trivial this was; quickly pushing it from the strained jumble in her mind. She slowly made her way over to the mirror on her dresser, carefully inspecting the face reflected within its depths. She raised her trembling fingertips to touch her pale cheek, barely recognizing her own reflection.

Her dark, brown eyes rose to meet those of her mirror image, and she saw something in them that she had never seen there before. She couldn't give it a name… but it scared her to see. She quickly turned around, giving her mirror full view of her back.

Her eyes flickered around her room, eerily illuminated by the full moon that evening. She knew she needed to really stop and think about everything that had happened… But she couldn't bring herself to do it. She didn't know what to think anymore.

Suddenly, she noticed her bedroom door was slowly opening, creaking as it always did. She stifled a gasp and, as quickly as she could manage, she scrambled into her bed, thankful she had decided to put on a nightgown before she cleaned.

But as she pulled the blanket up over her back, she saw Toby's figure standing in her doorway. She sat up slightly, smiling at the sight of him, and was relieved she wasn't going to have to yell at Mr. Todd again.

"You alrigh', love?" she asked him, her voice soft and low with just the right amount of worry.

"I… I keep 'avin' awful nightmares, mum… an'… an' I was hopin' I could maybe stay in with you tonigh'?" Toby asked, his eyes looking down at the floor, obviously not comfortable entering Mrs. Lovett's bedroom.

"O' course, Toby," she sighed, relieved she wouldn't have to spend the night alone. "Well, hop in, then," Mrs. Lovett said, gesturing for Toby to join her. Toby smiled, eagerly clambering into her bed. He immediately snuggled in, and when he closed his eyes, Mrs. Lovett lovingly stroked his dark hair. Her lips hesitatedly opened, before her voice began to sing…

_Nothing's gonna harm you, not while I'm around…  
Nothing's gonna harm you, darling…  
Not while I'm around…_

One single tear streamed down her cheek as she heard their lullaby emerge from her vocal cords. She remembered how, mere hours before, those same lyrics poured out of her lips in the most disgustingly dishonest way… It sickened her now. She kissed the sleeping boy's forehead before laying onto her stomach. As she nestled her head into her pillow, she couldn't remember it ever feeling this good.

It was funny, she decided, how life can completely reverse itself on you in the matter of a few hours. Lucy was dead now.

"May God rest her soul," Mrs. Lovett whispered under her breath.

The Judge was dead too… She half smirked at this thought. Mr. T would be completely lost with him gone… what will he do with himself now? She could hear his heavy footsteps pacing above her head, and she knew exactly what he was brooding away about. Her hand rose up to her lips, pinching her lower one slightly.

Had he _really, _just moments ago, kissed her? Her pulse quickened immediately, as if to solidify the answer to her question.

Yes. Yes, he had.

She had imagined how their first kiss would play out countless times in her mind. But tonight made her realize that reality can be so much better than even your biggest fantasies. She knew there had been no love in that kiss, at least on his end…

But he was the one who had initiated it. Him, after all that had taken place that night, had decided to end his evening with kissing Mrs. Lovett.

She mentally slapped herself. She had been so foolish earlier, thinking she could actually stop loving Mr. Todd… She'd been in love with Benjamin Barker for twenty years, did she really think she could stop loving Sweeney Todd now? Especially now that they truly relied on one another, whether he liked to admit or not…

But he had hurt her immeasurably, both mentally and physically, she knew… But he had showed her… well, she didn't know. It was probably Sweeney Todd's version of affection. How he had so painstakingly made sure she would be alright when he so carefully bandaged her back; how he hadn't left her side… To her, that proved his heart wasn't gone. It had just been out of use for so long he had forgotten what to do with it…

And she felt it was her job to help him remember.

However, she promised herself that she wouldn't acknowledge him until he at least attempted to apologize to her. She realized how juvenile that sounded, "giving Mr. T the cold shoulder", but… he needed to be the one to reach out to her this time. She knew how nearly impossible it would be for him, but… It was a step he needed to take. He had caused this damage, and it was his responsibility to repair it.

And with a twinge of pain from her back, Mrs. Lovett finally closed her eyes and fell asleep to Toby's steady breathing, knowing she would wake up in a completely different world.


	6. Chapter 6

_Longer chapter this time. I had a lot of fun writing this one, and am excited to continue on..._

* * *

Mrs. Lovett awoke from the deepest slumber she had ever known, her eyes greeted by a rare, sunny day in London. She grimaced, irritated it wasn't raining to match her gloomy mood. Slowly the events that had taken place the previous evening washed over her, clouding her vision. She almost felt as if she were waking up with a massive hangover, but she knew she hadn't had any alcohol. Then, her throbbing, blistered back reminded her of the true extent of last night's injuries.

She rolled out of bed and wandered over to her mirror, staring into her bloodshot eyes. Her face then contorted with pain, the burn stinging more intensely now that she was on her feet. She cursed, realizing she would to have to go see the doctor today. She cursed again when she realized she had slept in and hadn't baked any pies for the dinner rush that evening.

She then went over to her wardrobe, slipping into a more loosely-fitting dress. The cool, black fabric lightly fell down around her figure, accentuating her curves very slightly. She admired her reflection in the mirror, making a mental note to wear this particular dress more often. Her hands then went up to toy with her mess of auburn hair, attempting to make it look presentable, but to no avail. Mrs. Lovett and her unruly curls were in an ongoing war to see who could finally dominate the other. She sighed, defeated and allowing her wild waves to win their battle that day.

She turned away from the mirror, and her eyes fell on Toby, still fast asleep. He looked so peaceful, so serene… The sight of him painted a smile onto her crimson lips. She treaded quietly over to him, kneeling at the side of the bed and nudging him softly.

"Toby," she gently whispered. "I's time to get up, love." The boy stirred, and as he turned towards her she beamed down at his sleepy face. "Oh… poor thing, so tired…" Her face gained a hint of concern for him as she stroked the hair above his ear.

"No mum, I'm fine," Toby said, his voice still shaking off the hint of slumber. His eyes drifted up to the window, and he registered how high the sun was in the sky. "Oh God! I've slept in, mum, why di'nt ya wake me? Now we won't be ready to open up for lunch!" Toby sprang up in bed, throwing the blanket off his torso. Mrs. Lovett playfully laughed at the boy's sudden intensity.

"Easy now, Toby!" she chortled again, ruffling his hair. "I wos thinkin' we'd just open for dinner tonigh'. People won' miss us for jus' one lunchtime, eh?" Toby smiled and nodded. "There's a good lad. Now, I'm gonna have to pop out for a tick, which means I'm gonna trust you to ge' the dining room all ready for the dinner rush. Can ya do tha' for me?"

"O' course, mum. You can trust me. Goin' to the market?" Toby inquired.

"I'm jus' gonna go see a doctor about me back. It hurts somethin' awful, and I'm 'oping he can give me somethin' for it. I'll be back in two shakes, alrigh'?"

"Sure, bu'… are ya sure ya wanna work tonigh', with your back the way it is?" His eyes reflected concern for Mrs. Lovett.

"Yes, I'm sure, love. Life goes on…" She swallowed apprehensively at these words. Her wall of ersatz content came crashing down on her, sending her mind into a hurricane of vivid recollections.

Images of Lucy's dead corpse and Mr. Todd's bloodthirsty eyes flashed in front of her eyes. She could feel Sweeney's fingertips brushing her breasts, feel his lips crashing down on hers… She shook her head, sending away memories of last night. She couldn't think about it all at once; it was too much…

"Well… you'd best get to work, love," Mrs. Lovett whispered, her voice quiet and serious.

"Yes mum," Toby said, his voice instantly acquiring the solemn tone of Mrs. Lovett's. He scampered out of the room and down the stairs, immediately starting his work. Mrs. Lovett sank down onto the bed, cradling her face in her hands. Both Lucy and the Judge were dead. She realized now it was terrible that she had been relying on their deaths to make everything in her own life alright… but she couldn't see how anything could be alright again. Too much had changed.

Then, as quickly as she had broken down, she stood back up, straightening her dress. She walked downstairs, assuring herself Toby was working. She then stepped outside, the warm sun caressing her face. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling. '_Life does go on…_' she thought. Her feet guided her along the stream of bustling people, disappearing into the rest of the crowd.

* * *

Sweeney Todd sat in his chair, admiring the way his razor caught the sunlight. He watched the beams of light dance and flicker on the walls, reminding him of how Mrs. Lovett's lovely brown eyes shimmered when she spoke… He scowled at the razor, throwing it away from him. Even his beloved friends reminded him of that woman…

Why couldn't he get her out of his mind? And she hadn't brought him breakfast that morning, which would have been a bloody relief… he could've taken at least a little of this frustration out on her. Not once, since he had moved back in had she failed to bring him his morning meal. And of course, his stomach had chosen this particular morning to be hungry.

He half leapt to his feet, walking over to the window, abandoning thought to observe the people rushing below. There was an abundance of them out and about today, what with the weather being halfway decent for once. He hadn't had any customers today, however. No normal Londoner was willingly indoors with sunshine like this…

His shadowy eyes then spotted Mrs. Lovett's red mess of hair in the street below, the sun illuminating it and making her stand out from the crowd. Where was she going now? She _always_informed him of when and where she was going, and it drove him mad…

But he was discovering it was even worse when he had no idea. His eyes followed her like a hawk until she finally slipped away into the multitude of people. And he paced the day away, realizing at sunset that the usual noises at dinnertime from Mrs. Lovett's Pie Shop were rising up his staircase.

His eyes narrowed as his eyebrows lowered, retrieving his razor from the floor. He threw open his shop door and observed the patio, thriving with customers; the sound of cutlery clinking against plates rising up to meet him. He hadn't imagined she would open the shop tonight… And yet there she was, smiling pleasantly as she moved from table to table, her bandaged back visible from the cutout in her dress; the purple bruises on her neck painfully obvious...

He watched her for an unknown amount of time, waiting for her to show any sign of fatigue. She was obviously stronger than he thought. He then observed her whispering something to Toby before disappearing into the pie shop. His feet flew down his stairs, following her. He was fast, and sure enough, when he reached the staircase leading down to the bakehouse Mrs. Lovett's figure was descending them to retrieve her latest batch of pies.

He continued to follow her, stalking behind her like an ominous shadow. He saw her shoulder blades suddenly clench in her back before she reached the door; she obviously sensed his presence… But she didn't turn around. She merely stopped, becoming perfectly still but for her shoulders, rising and falling with her every breath. He closed the little distance between them, pressing himself to her back as his hands firmly gripped her shoulders. He moved his mouth closer to her ear, inhaling her spicy and almost cinnamon infused aroma.

"Mrs. Lovett… wherever do you think you're going?" he growled, his low and sinister voice tickling the inside of her ear. She instinctively turned her head toward his, keeping her eyes down at the floor.

"Well Mr. T…" she whispered, almost seductively. "I wos going to get more pies before you so rudely interrupted me." Her voice suddenly becoming firm, almost harsh.

"I was just…" he paused, trying his hardest not to explode into a fit of rage right there in front of her. "I insist that you go upstairs and lie down. You've been working far too long today," Sweeney said calmly, not daring to look into her powerful eyes. He backed away from Mrs. Lovett, staring down at the grey stone beneath him. He could hear her violently turn towards him.

"Oh, an' I'm sure you really, truly care about me! I mean, from the way you nearly _killed _me multiple times last night, forgive me! I's obvious you really care about my well being." Her voice was angry and sarcastic, her eyes wide awaiting his reaction. He hadn't so much as flinched… His head slowly rose, his eyes finally meeting her own. And as he gazed into her chocolate brown eyes, searching him for answers, he felt an extremely strange emotion fill his chest. He couldn't name it…

But he couldn't stop from admitting how captivating she was when she was angry. He swooped forward, reclaiming her shoulders beneath his firm grip. She merely scowled at him, glaring.

"Nellie…"

'_Oh… he never, ever calls me by my first name...'_ she thought. Her eyes softened slightly, more receptive to what he was about to say.

"I will be honest… I did want to kill you last night. But… when I slightly cut your neck…" His thumb lightly traced over the small line of dry blood his razor had drawn. "I… I don't like to see you hurt."

Her breath caught in her throat. She hadn't expected his confrontation so soon, and she certainly hadn't expected it to take the turn it just had. She looked into his eyes, seeing something she had never seen there before. Compassion…

Her lips parted slightly as she shakily inhaled, readying herself to speak.

"So… you do care about me, then? N-not jus' wot I do for you?" she asked, her heart raw and speaking for itself. He finally broke their gaze, looking down.

Did he actually care about her? The gears in his head jammed as he stared at the floor. He had never thought about whether or not he actually cared about the woman that had made his revenge possible. Without her, he'd still be in agony over the fact the Judge's blood wasn't spurting out from beneath his razor. He'd probably be calling some disgusting alleyway home… He looked back up at her when she sharply exhaled.

"Tha's wot I thought," she whispered, one tear sliding down her cheek. She didn't even seem to notice she was crying. She merely shook her head at him before going into the bakehouse, leaving him to stand in the stairwell.

"Bloody hell, woman…" he muttered angrily, slamming a fist against the cold metal of the bakehouse door. "What are you doing to me…?" He realized he hadn't thought about Turpin since the night before. Which was just as well, the cold hearted bastard didn't deserve anyone's thoughts… And Lucy was Benjamin Barker's wife. Not Sweeney Todd's. They were both dead and gone, finally reunited in the heavens… Johanna. She must be safe with the sailor, Anthony, he hadn't heard from him since the night before.

But Mrs. Lovett was slowly painting his black and white world with vivid color, he realized; slowly overtaking his thoughts… He wasn't sure just yet that that was what he wanted.

_'You do care about me, then?'_ Her smooth voice echoed in his mind.

Yes. He did care about her. But she was obviously under the impression that he thought nothing more of her than his neighbor and assistant. Which is, indeed, what he had thought of her… but when that had changed he couldn't say. She thought he didn't care? He thought… and created an idea he hoped would show her that he didn't want any harm to come to her.

He walked up the stairs, ready to walk to the market and set his plan in motion, until he realized no place would be open at this hour. He then noticed all the people still outside on the patio. He immediately stormed outside.

"Go home. Mrs. Lovett has retired for the evening," he said, forceful and businesslike. His intimidating presence influenced people to finally get up and leave, nodding as they passed by him. Yes, it was too late now to go down to St. Dunstan's. He walked back into the shop, spying a plate of food on the counter. He sat down and began to eat, filling up his empty stomach.

The door to the shop opened and he whipped around in his chair, expecting to see Mrs. Lovett's presence standing before him. But it was merely Toby. Toby's eyes narrowed at Mr. Todd before he grabbed a bottle of gin and retired to the living room. Mr. Todd lowered the fork that had begun its journey to his mouth. As he sat there, he realized how truly alone he was in this black hole in the world. And only one person had tried to show him that wasn't how it had to be.

_Hope everyone enjoyed that chapter! I'm quite pleased with how it turned out. PLEASE review! Seriously, you guys have no idea how happy they make me. Tell me your every thought! I'd also love to hear thoughts on where you'd like to see this story go; nothing's set in stone yet. Lots of hugs! (ha, almost typed "jugs", that's a funny word!)_


	7. Chapter 7

_So, chapters seven and eight were originally going to be one massive chapter, but... I decided to divide it in two. So this chapter is a bit slow, but believe me. What happens in chapter eight makes up for it. ;) Hopefully..._

* * *

Mrs. Lovett was rolling and kneading dough in her shop, aggressively taking out all her frustrations with the help of her rolling pin. She and Mr. Todd hadn't so much as looked at each other since their little chat in front of the bakehouse.

Slam.

She had known. Her head had told her that he only cared about her because she disposed of his victims and did his laundry. But her stubborn heart wouldn't accept it.

Smash.

She paused, watching the flour swirl in the air around the wad of dough. His emotions changed so randomly; it drove her mad… There was absolutely no transition between his gentility and his hostility. Whenever she looked into his black eyes she had no way of knowing what would be reflected back at her.

All of a sudden, she sensed a shadow moving closely to the window of her shop, and she brought her head up to see whom it belonged to. And there he was, storming off to heaven knows where… He had done the same thing yesterday as well, in the bloody rain... Never once had she seen Mr. Todd willingly venture out on his own. Whenever she actually needed him to come with her to the marketplace, she had to plead for hours... Where was he going?

She closed her eyes. She was so tired… She had barely slept the past two nights. Nothing felt real to her in this constant state of consciousness.

Her head jerked up again as Toby crashed into the shop, laughing and waving off a group of boys. They were obviously from the workhouse, judging by the ratty state of them… He turned towards her, his expression of happiness quickly changing to confusion.

"Wot are ya doin', mum? I's Sunday! We're not open today," he said, his voice still rather cheery. She blinked at the boy, trying desperately to comprehend what he had just said.

"I's Sunday?" she asked, wiping the flour from her sweaty forehead.

"Yes mum. An'… an' I was wonderin'… could I run down to the market an' ge' some toffees? I'd really like somethin' sweet," he said, his eyes wide at the mere prospect of the candy.

Mrs. Lovett nodded, her head barely moving from exhaustion.

"Are you alrigh', mum?" Toby asked. He had noticed that Mrs. Lovett hadn't been her jovial self the past couple days. And he knew it was because of Mr. T… He despised what that horrible man did to her. Toby had noticed they had barely spoken since that horrendous, awful, dreadful night… And though he wished it could stay that way, he also knew how sad Mrs. Lovett was about it. So he was torn. The man that made Mrs. Lovett happy was also the one who reduced her to tears in half a heartbeat.

Mrs. Lovett smiled the shadow of a smile. "Yes, love. I'll be alrigh'. "Ere ya go," she said, her voice somewhere far away. She reached into the front of her dress to retrieve her coin purse; handing Toby three pennies. "After ya ge' those toffees, why don't ya run along to the park? I really need to catch a wink 'o' sleep…" she added.

Toby nodded. "Alrigh' mum. Thank you. I 'ope your nap does ya some good," he said. The boy was heartbreakingly honest; he wore his every emotion plainly on his face.

"Me too, love. Now run along, and be home before sunset." Toby nodded before scampering out into the street in the direction of the marketplace. After the boy escaped her sight, she somehow found the energy to drag her legs up the seemingly never-ending staircase. She wandered into her bedroom and mindlessly changed into her nightgown before collapsing onto her bed. Adjusting her body, she moved her head up to the cushion of the soft, down pillow. Her eyelids instantaneously fluttered shut.

And her mind drifted back to Mr. Todd.

She knew that what he said to her had taken a painstaken amount of work on his part. Sweeney Todd was supposed to be emotionless. Blank. Expressionless. Invincible.

'_I don't like to see you hurt.' _

His soothing baritone voice replayed that moment over and over in her overworked mind. Her heart lifted at the mere memory of the thing. He was trying, she realized. He was trying to reach out to her… So it was working. She was slowly chipping away at the unforgiving stone wall around his temporarily lifeless heart.

_All good things come to those who can…_

Her voice sang, half whispering her familiar lyrics; falling fast asleep before even finishing the phrase.

* * *

Hours passed, and the moon slowly arose to replace the sun in the gloomy sky. Mrs. Lovett finally awoke, feeling extremely relaxed. She kept her eyes closed, enjoying the sensation well-restedness brought her. Every single muscle in her body was loose; her mind not focused on any one thing… Until her eyes spotted a daisy lying on the pillow next to hers.

She propped herself up on her elbows, admiring the optimistic flower and the way the yellow center contrasted against the white all around it. She brought it up to her nose, inhaling the sweet floral scent. She smiled. Toby must have bought it for her from the market, or maybe found some in the park… But no matter. She just couldn't understand how a boy could have the horrible childhood Toby had, and still be as sweet and caring as he was. It was the simple, little things like this that made Mrs. Lovett smile.

With the delicate flower still in her grasp, Mrs. Lovett made her way down the stairs, cold on her bare feet, and into the living room. Toby was sitting on the couch, bottle of gin half-empty in his hand.

"'Ello, mum! You're looking much better; your nap did ya some good, then?" Toby asked, his voice bright. Mrs. Lovett sat down on the chair opposite him, grinning as she again brought the daisy up to her nose.

"Yes, love, it did. Can't tell ya 'ow much better I feel," she said, smiling down at the flower's yellow center. "So you 'ad a nice outing in the park then?"

"Yeah, I did. I really liked seein' all my friends from the workhouse. We 'ad a pretend swordfight down by the river, an' it wos real fun," Toby said, his eyes aglow from the memories of his day.

"Tha's really nice dear," Mrs. Lovett said, her eyes surveying the boy as he took a gulp of gin. She then glanced down at her daisy. "Toby, did ya put this flower on me pillow whilst I wos sleepin'?" He looked up at her, his face painted with puzzlement.

"No mum, I didn't. I jus' got home when you came downstairs," he said, bringing the bottle back up to his lips. Most children were raised on milk from their bottles. Toby had been raised on gin.

Mrs. Lovett's eyebrows twisted up with perplexity. "Well… if you didn', than who…" A tidal wave of realization settled over her, numbing her every nerve. She couldn't let herself consider that possibility… She carefully planted the flower behind her ear before rising to her feet. "Well, don't stay up too much later, dear. You've 'ad a long day, alrigh'?" She said, placing a kiss in his mess of hair.

"Yes mum. Good nigh'," he said, settling into his place on the sofa and closing his eyes. Mrs. Lovett allowed her fingers to linger on his shoulder before walking into the kitchen. She warily eyed the door that led up to _his _place. No. It wasn't possible… She remembered mentioning to him once that she was rather fond of daisies, and that his parlor could use some for a touch of gentility… She traced a petal of the flower in her hair with her middle finger, and took a deep breath before she stepped outside to ascend the stairs to his room.


	8. Chapter 8

_Alright. Here it is. All I'm saying is that this story is rated "M" for a reason, okay? _

* * *

Sweeney Todd was sitting in the leather chair which sat in the center of the room; having dozed off after his day in the market. His eyes snapped open, however, when the bell on the door to his shop gently sounded. He turned around in his seat to see Mrs. Lovett, her warm brown eyes focused on him. He noticed that she had the daisy embedded in her wild mess of auburn hair. Her glowing eyes flitted over his every facial feature, lingering on his eyes, before moving to the vanity sitting in the corner. He heard her shakily inhale when she noticed the vase of daisies resting upon it.

"Why?" she asked, her voice barely audible. "Why did you do this?" Her wide eyes were focused on him again, encased in tears.

He stood up and slowly approached her. He rose his hand to feel the velvet-smooth petal of the flower in her hair.

"Because you're impossible. And… I didn't know how else to get it through your thick head that I do care about you. I owe my revenge to you, daft woman…. And… You like daisies…" he said, his fingertips still caressing the silky petals. Her small hands rose to meet his, lacing her fingers with his as she lowered his hand to her side. His eyebrows raised slightly, not sure how to react to her gesture.

"You do care?" she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. She almost wouldn't let herself believe that he had just spoken those words. To her, no less… He didn't say anything, but he finally averted his gaze from the flower in her hair to look straight at her eyes. He squinted slightly, mildly irritated at how she needed to hear everything more than once.

"Don't make me say it again, Mrs. Lovett," he growled, his facial expression unchanging. She swallowed, bringing her head slightly back from his. She then slowly inched closer to him before tenderly kissing his pale lips, her eyes fluttering shut. Perfection…

His eyes widened again; unprepared for such an affectionate kiss. No, he couldn't handle it, he didn't want this… He ferociously bit her lip, forcing his tongue deep into her mouth. He needed to get away from this tenderness… She moaned at the change of pace, breaking away from him for a moment.

She moved her head to his ear, whispering lightly, "I want you." Mr. Todd then felt her teeth bite into his neck, and he groaned from the most delightful combination of pain and pleasure he had ever known. He glanced down, her milky white neck exposed to him; arched in the most beautiful of ways…

She continued her trail of bite marks to the curve of his shoulder before returning to his mouth, her tongue instantly finding and caressing his. Mr. Todd moved his hands to the small of her back, pressing her to him to close whatever space remained between them. She inhaled lightly at the realization that it was _not_ one of his razors pressing against her leg. Her hands went down to his waist, undoing his belt buckle before tossing it carelessly to the floor.

He suddenly broke away from her, grasping her shoulders firmly as he drew her away from where she fit so perfectly into the convexes of his body. His eyes hungrily explored her torso, visible through the white cotton of her nightgown. He quickly grabbed one of his razors from the vanity.

"Mr. Todd, wot are ya doin'?" Mrs. Lovett asked, slowly backing away from him. She couldn't trust him when his razors were in hand.

"Not to worry, pet. Trust me," he growled as he once again closed the distance between them. He made a cut in the fabric at the center of her chest, and drew the blade down until the garment was severed in two. She looked up at him, her eyes sultry and seductive as she slowly revealed her body to him. His lips parted at the sight of her, needing and wanting all of her at once, right now… He had been deprived of a woman for so long… He instantaneously wrapped his arms around her, kissing her fiercely as his hands caressed her smooth, porcelain back.

She broke their kiss, whispering into his ear again.

"I think it's your turn, Mr. T," she said playfully.

She teasingly bit his lower lip before pulling away, pulling his translucent, white cotton shirt over his head. The feeling of desire in her lower stomach grew with intensity when her eyes were given the sight of his exposed chest. His muscles were toned and firm from hard labor during his years as a prisoner, but Mrs. Lovett felt his turmoil was paying off now more than ever. He was as beautiful as she had imagined…

Her hands roved from his lower abdomen all the way up to his chest, adoring their chisled feel beneath her fingertips. She brought her lips down to where his heart pulsed beneath his skin, and feeling his blood rushing beneath her made her own heart pound even faster.

Mr. Todd slipped two fingertips under her chin, lifting her head from his chest to meet his gaze.

"I can't wait any longer."

He firmly wrapped his arms around her, and as he lifted his baker effortlessly off the floor she draped her legs around his bare upper body, burying her head into the curve of his neck. He carried her over to his barber chair, planting small bites on her exposed nape as he went. After resting her on the seat, his eyes again drank in the sight of her flawless, glowing body; her magnificent breasts heaving with her labored breath.

"Well, don' be shy, Mr. T," Mrs Lovett said, her voice low and seductive. Her smoldering eyes wandered down to the waistband of his trousers; her tongue lightly tracing her upper teeth.

"Drop 'em down."

His lips quivered into a slight smile at her eagerness. His hands fell to undo the button holding up his pants, his eyes never breaking her gaze. He drew both his undergarments and pants down to the floor, kicking them aside before retrieving his razor from where it had fallen to the ground beside Mrs. Lovett's torn nightgown.

He rushed back to Mrs. Lovett, noticing her hand had dipped between her legs; her eyes shut and her lips drawn apart. He met his lips with hers, sighing as both her hands went up to run through his smooth, black hair. One of his hands went to cradle her head while the other, still clutching the razor, plunged it deep inside her. Her back arched at the unexpected sensation as a pleasure-filled gasp escaped her throat.

"Mmm, Mr. Todd," she groaned, her head tipped back against the chair. He slowly moved the razor in and out of her, breaking away from her lips to pay her breasts some attention. He lightly kissed the tops of them, feeling her amplified groans vibrate in her chest. However, this could continue only so long before the piece of silver uniting them wasn't bringing their needed level of pleasure.

"Stop," Mrs. Lovett breathed.

"I need _you_. Inside me. Now," her voice developing a level of urgency Sweeney Todd just couldn't refuse. He obeyed, throwing the razor to the floor. He then carefully positioned himself at her entrance, and kept both eyes on hers before slamming into her relentlessly. She cried out from the sheer bliss of finally having him inside her. He buried his head into her chest, breathing in their combined erotic scent. This influenced him to thrust harder and more violently inside her; going deeper each time.

The heated energy that linked them together quickly grew to its boiling point with each time her shoved powerfully inside her; swiftly pushing the couple over the edge. Her fingernails dug into his back, leaving half-moon bruses as her scream melded together with his low yell, falling off the limits of their passion together.

They remained motionless, neither of them ready to accept what had just happened. Sweeney collapsed to the floor, bringing Mrs. Lovett with him as his legs failed him. His arm remained loosely wrapped around her shoulder as her head settled perfectly onto his chest. She lightly kissed his jawline.

"Sweeney?" she whispered, exhausted from living out her fantasy.

"Wot, Nellie?" he groveled, deep and rough. Leave it to her to have to say something in a moment like this...

He turned his head to look into her beautiful, chocolate colored eyes. He saw himself reflected in them in the most honest way possible, as he always did… but he was no longer sure of the man he saw.

"Thank ya fo' the daisies."

_EEK! That was my first piece of smutty writing. Ever. I'm pretty happy with it, but I hope all of you are too!_


	9. Chapter 9

_First off, I feel SUPER bad that this chapter took so long to be posted. I was on vacation for four days, and I was originally going to make this even longer than it's already insane longness... so I hope you're all happy with it. :) _

_OOH! I also have a fun Sweeney story for you all. I was wearing my Sweeney Todd t-shirt when my brother, mom and I went into this sword/knife store. The clerks there noticed my shirt... and they brought out a replica of one of Sweeney's razors!! I totally bought one and sang "My Friends" for the next six hours straight. :) It's awesome. Anyways, onto the chapter!_

* * *

Sweeney Todd tenderly pressed his lips to Nellie Lovett's smooth neck. She allowed her eyes to flutter shut as she smiled, hardly able to contain the happiness she felt. She settled her head back into his shoulder, allowing the world around her to slowly blur. Tears began to stream down her face, slowly pooling on Sweeney's chest. He compassionately kissed the top of her head.

"Wot's wrong, pet?" he asked.

"Oh, i's nothin' love… I jus'…" She paused, trying to put her thoughts into words so they would make sense to him. "I don't think you know how long I've been waitin' for this to 'appen."

He sighed into the mess of curls still piled on top of her head. "Nellie, I'm not as ignorant as you think I am. I know how long you've been waiting. And so did Benjamin Barker."

She parted her lips, tipping her head closer to his ear.

"I love you," she whispered, her hand resting on his chest just above his pulsating heart. He tipped her head up to meet his gaze.

"Nellie…" he paused, his breathing slow and heavy. "I love you too."

_Crash._

Mrs. Lovett awoke with a start, rain pounding relentlessly down on the large window in the roof. Every few seconds lightning would unnaturally illuminate the room, casting strange black and white shadows over everything. She rose a hand to her bare chest to find that her heart was racing. '_It was all just a dream then…_'

Another flash lit up the room, and Mrs. Lovett's eyes fell on the unclothed figure of Sweeney Todd lying beside her. So it hadn't _all_ been a dream… Thank God. But of course, the thing she longed for, the thing she had dreamed of him saying for so long had been just that. A dream.

She quickly rose a hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle, however. The sight of _him,_ just laying there naked on the floor struck her as slightly funny. She stood up and looked out the window, observing the storm crash around her. A shiver ran up her spine as the cool evening air permeated her bare skin. She wrapped her arms around herself as her eyes flitted over the floor, searching for where her nightgown had been carelessly thrown.

She found it, the creamy lace pooling on the floor behind Sweeney's barber chair. She picked it up, observing the large slit that had been made down the front of it. "Bugger it…" she whispered to herself. "An' I liked this nightgown too…" Nevertheless, she knew she couldn't just waltz back into her shop naked, so she pulled the fabric over her shoulders, holding it closed with both hands.

It was a bit past daybreak, she knew, and she had pies to bake… She wandered back to Sweeney and kneeled down at his side. She adored how peaceful he looked while he slept. It wasn't a facial expression he wore otherwise.

She stayed by his side for a while, just watching his chest slowly rise and fall with every breath he took. She definitely knew now he felt something for her, whatever it was… but it undeniably wasn't love... yet. He was still always so silent, still obviously brooding over what happened so long ago in his past. It had completely consumed him. And she wasn't sure she could handle it for much longer. But, she supposed having some of him was better than not having him at all.

She ended her stream of conciousness with the thought that he had to be freezing. She walked purposefully into the room adjacent to the barber's parlor and grabbed a blanket from the bed. She moved back over to him and draped it over his body, which shuddered slightly at the blanket covering him. She smiled as she lightly kissed his cheekbone; drawing her nightgown closed before disappearing down the stairs and into her pie shop.

After having changed into some proper clothes (her favorite dress, crimson fabric trimmed with black lace and beads), she immediately rushed down to the bakehouse. She was starting an hour later than usual, and there was so much work to be done…

The muscles of her inner thighs burned as she descended the familiar stairs, sore from the night before. She paused, closing her eyes and savoring the pain as a blanket of warmth swept over her. Her lips drew up into a smile at the mere recollection of the previous night. That look in his eyes as he had looked into hers; as they had lingered on every part of her body… He had finally looked at her for her. For a few minutes, _she_ had saved him from the demons of his past, his black heart beating as her own.

It had been better than she had ever imagined; so ragged and stormy and beautiful… She shook her head, collecting herself from the confines of her mind. She stared at the metallic door to the bakehouse. There was _so_ much work to be done…

But she opened the door nonetheless. Nothing could ruin this day for her. It was storming, which just happened to be her favorite type of weather, and she was wearing her most beautiful dress… She twirled around, a few stray red curls twisting with her as her favorite melody poured from her vocal cords.

_Ooh, Mr. Todd, I'm so happy, I could eat you up, I really could! You know what I'd like to do, Mr. Todd? Wot I dreamed-"_

Mrs. Lovett abruptly paused, finally opening her eyes from her daydreamed waltz around the bakehouse. Something wasn't right here. The now-familiar scent of death wasn't there to greet her. Her eyes flew up to the trap door in the ceiling before falling to the floor beneath it. There weren't any corpses there, and judging by the lack of bloodstains there hadn't been one since Judge Turpin had fallen to his death. Had he _really _not slit anyone's throat since that night? She could hardly believe that…

And what, exactly, was she supposed to do now for meat? She had already used all the spare meat she usually kept around; she was completely out. Well, this was just perfect. They definitely couldn't open for lunch, but maybe if she sent Toby to the butcher's and she stayed back and started making filling and crust… Yes, that would have to work. She sighed, glaring up at the trapdoor. That hopeless, captivating man…

She rushed back up to her pie shop, writing down her order on a scrap of paper she found lying on the counter. She then glanced up, finally noticing that Toby was sitting at the table, eating a bite of breakfast. "Morning, love. Didja sleep alrigh'?" Mrs. Lovett asked, leaning her on her elbows into the flour-caked counter.

Toby swallowed, nodding. "Yeah, mum, I did." He paused. He really looked at Mrs. Lovett, noticing how she was almost… glowing. Toby hadn't seen her this happy since… since that day they had all had that picnic at the park. He smiled up at her. "You look… really 'appy," Toby said, blinking nervously. He then looked back down at his plate, shifting the food around with his fork.

She smiled even more widely as she came around the counter, sitting across from him. "Aw. Thank you, dear. And…" she paused, fidgeting with her fingers. "I am really happy." She paused, staring off into space before recollecting herself from her daydreams.

"Now, I need ya to run this to the butcher's. We're out 'o' meat," she said, sliding the piece of paper across the table to him. He picked it up, his face confused with his inability to comprehend the words written there. "Not to worry, the butcher'll understand wot's written there. Hurry along, now."

Toby nodded before immediately abandoning his breakfast and hustling off to the butcher's shop. Mrs. Lovett observed him running through the streets with concern, hoping he wouldn't get _completely_ drenched before he reached the butcher…

But every nerve in her body clenched as she heard the door to the shop unexpectedly opened and closed. She wasn't sure she was ready to face him just yet, and so she remained with her back to the door.

"Mrs. Nellie Lovett?" a male voice inquired of her. That certainly wasn't Mr. T's voice… than who's was it? She turned around, and her breath stopped when she saw who was in her pie shop. They were here.

Two surly looking police officers, dripping wet from the rain were standing authoritatively in front of the door. She momentarily stared at them, eyes wide with her mouth open and gaping.

'_Well, it's over.' _She thought. _'We'll both be dead before the week is out. But… at least he rumpled me bedding before this 'appened.' _She stood up to face them, her head held high; supported with utmost confidence. She smiled, her eyes sparkling at them both. She wasn't ashamed of what they'd done.

"Yes, tha's me," she said, brushing the ever-present traces of flour from her dress. "Well, wot can I do for you two gentlemen on such a dreary day?" Mrs. Lovett asked. She wasn't going down without a fight.

* * *

Sweeney Todd was descending the stairs to the pie shop, not acknowledging the pounding rain soaking through his clothes. He was trying his hardest to keep his mind completely void of all thoughts. He just couldn't allow himself to think about what had happened between them just yet. He stopped just before he reached the door, extending a hand to rest on the wall. No. He could think about it.

He and Mrs. Lovett had had sex, to put it plainly. And… and it hadn't been anything more than lust and the heat of the moment.

He had thrown the daisies out a window the moment he had awoken. They were a concrete reminder of the fact that he did genuinely care about Mrs. Lovett. They had reminded him… that a new life with her was possible. And he didn't want to face that fact just yet. Them having sex had probably meant so much to her… when to him it had been, well, amazing would be an understatement, but it had been full of only lust for him. Nothing more.

Yes… that is what he would explain to her. He did owe her at least that.

He looked up, and the scene he saw playing out in the pie shop before him made him freeze; his hand inches from the doorknob. The authorities had finally dropped in to question them. And then that feeling of sickening realization settled over him; as if he were being slowly submerged in ice water. The police were here, probably to question the disappearance of the Judge… and his life was, at this moment, in the hands of Nellie Lovett. The woman who had missed out on learning the appropriate times to keep her mouth shut. He felt he might as well hang himself right then and now.

But he kept his eyes fixated on her every movement through the rain-painted window nonetheless; he couldn't bring himself to look away. And in that moment he truly began to realize just how much he relied on Mrs. Lovett to live.

* * *

"Ah, Mrs. Lovett. We just have a few questions for you, is all," the officer on the left stated. He was a short, fat, greasy sort of man. Mrs. Lovett's heart began to race in her chest, but it was impossible to tell by her outward appearance. She had always been a good actress.

"Alrigh'," she said, nodding and smiling pleasantly. "Oh, you mus' be chilled to the bone, walkin' here in rain like this! Let me at least fetch ya some tea," she said insistently, her hands patiently folded in front of her.

The fat man spoke again. "Much appreciated, ma'am, but I'm afraid we've only time to ask you a few questions." Mrs. Lovett smiled shyly, looking back and forth between them in polite anticipation of their first question. The fat man nudged the taller, skinnier man of the two, obviously urging him to say something.

The second man cleared his throat. "Well, I'm sure you are familiar with the Beadle Bamford and the honorable Judge Turpin." He looked expectantly at Mrs. Lovett, as though he expected her to confess on the spot. This man had an air of anxiousness about him; as if he thought every person they questioned was guilty of committing a crime.

"'O' course. Two absolutely fine gentlemen, always active in the community and 'elpin' others… Didn' know either of 'em very well, though we always exchanged pleasantries in passing." Her voice never faltered, slow and calm as she lied through her teeth.

"Ah… I see," the fat man broke in. "Well, then it is with a heavy heart that I must inform you that both men have gone missing." Mrs. Lovett's eyes grew wide as she brought a hand up to delicately cover her mouth in false surprise.

"Oh dear… terrible news indeed," Mrs. Lovett sympathized, her voice lowered.

"Yes," the fat man continued, "This disappearance has shocked many throughout the neighborhood. And this brings us to the purpose of our visit. We've just been asking around the community to see if anyone might have information that will aid in solving this mysterious occurance."

She sighed in mock frustration. "I really wish I could be of more help to you gentlemen." She shrugged, gazing up at the ceiling and back at them. "I mean, the last time I saw 'em must've been more'n a week ago, down at St. Dunstan's Marketplace."

'_Or perhaps on the floor of my bakehouse, lying dead in their own blood… But I'm sure you can understand why I get them confused.'_

Both police officers nodded, collecting themselves as they made movements to leave. And through the corner of her eye, Mrs. Lovett could have sworn she saw a figure dart underneath the stairs. "Well, Mrs. Lovett, ma'am, we thank you for your time," the fat police officer said as the tall one opened the door. Thunder crashed around them, rain pounding down still, hard as ever.

"Ah, no trouble at all. I 'ope you find what you're lookin' for very soon. But do go home soon and warm your bones in front 'o' the fire from this awful storm," she said, moving to hold the door open for the two of them.

The overweight man laughed solemnly, obviously the more authoritive of the two men. "Ah, we'll be sure to do so, Mrs. Lovett, ma'am." They all nodded and politely wished one another well before the two men hustled off to their next destination, despite the gale of the storm outside.

Mrs. Lovett smiled, thoroughly pleased with herself and her performance, made herself a cup of tea and sat down to relax. She had pulled it off; she had saved their lives…

She was unbelieveably content and happy with the entire world, smiling as she swallowed the hot fluid down her throat. She had just brought the cup up to her lips again, blocking her vision when the door to her pie shop opened and closed. She slowly lowered the cup to the table, not looking up at who was sure to be Sweeney Todd.

Her gaze was fixated at her cup, her ears picking up the noise of him walking closer to her before sitting on the chair across from her. She gradually brought her eyes up to look into his.

Sweeney, for once, didn't break their gaze. He was trying to understand how she had so convincingly told the two police officers she hadn't seen either man in weeks. Not once had she shown even the slightest sign of nervousness… He admired her for it. She was more strong-willed than he had imagined.

They remained staring at each other for nearly five minutes, neither of the two saying a word before Mrs. Lovett broke the silence.

"Morning, love," she whispered. The corner of his mouth quivered as he slowly shifted uncomfortably in his seat. You couldn't cut the awkwardness between them with a knife if you tried… "Last nigh' wos perfect," she whispered, her voice openly expressing her vulnerability. Her index finger was slowly tracing the rim of the tea cup.

"No…" Sweeney muttered deeply. Mrs. Lovett paused, looking up at him. She blinked wordlessly, nervously at him, her lips parted slightly.

"Wot? So it… it wosn't… y'know… good for you?" she asked.

Sweeney stifled an exasperated sigh. "Quite the contrary, dear." Mrs. Lovett smiled into her tea. "But…" he continued. "It was nothing more than that."

Mrs. Lovett clenched her fingertips into the tabletop as she closed her eyes. She did _not_ want to hear this, she couldn't…

She abruptly stood up and strode behind the counter, immediately grasping her rolling pin to make the much-needed pie crust. She was inwardly cursing herself for believing it had maybe meant more to him than an outlet for pent-up lust… But Sweeney had mutilated those feeble hopes in one fell swoop.

Sweeney sat at the table still, watching her pound the dough with a very confused expression on his face. He had expected her to completely break down and scream and cry… But she had done none of those things. He strode over to the counter.

"I was just frustrated…" he said, so quietly it was almost beneath his breath. She paused for a mere instant before resuming her pummeling of the dough. The silence was unbearable. What the hell was wrong with her; why was she so bloody quiet? Why wasn't she even facing him? Of all the times he had wished she would shut up… never once had she actually done it. He was rapidly discovering her silences were even more agonizing than her incoherent babbling. Finally, though, she looked up.

"I know. I know it was just… lust," she said, irritated, wishing with everything she had for it to be different. "But… I love you," she whispered so quietly she wasn't sure she had actually vocalized it.

Sweeney felt his chest twinge at her murmur. He was already angry at her reaction, but… he was even more full of rage at his reaction to her words.

Before he knew what he was doing, he raced behind the counter and had pinned her against the brick wall, hands clenched around her porcelain throat. And she just looked up at him, her face as calm as if she had been strolling through the park. His eyebrows, initially drawn up in confusion shot back down with fury.

"Stop asking me for something I will _never_ be capable of giving you," he growled, his face dangerously close to hers.

And still, her face remained unsurprised, unstrained. Her own rage was slowly bubbling to the surface, but wasn't quite ready to burst just yet.

"I could never do that to my Lucy, do you understand me? I could _never_ replace the life we had…" Finally he allowed his hands to fall to his sides and turned away from her. He couldn't look into her shining, brown eyes anymore…

Mrs. Lovett opened her mouth, enjoying seeing him freeze at her words. "Did you ever stop to think… that maybe I don't bloody _want_ to replace her?" she said, her voice low and dangerous. "She was Benjamin's. She'll _never_ be Sweeney Todd's like I already have, and… and that's all I've ever wanted," she whispered, glaring at his back. He did nothing but turn around, looking into her eyes again.

"I hate everything you do to me." He then moved away from Mrs. Lovett and started towards the door. It was like throwing a flaming match into a pool of gasoline.

She threw her rolling pin at him, hitting him square in the back. "You're intolerable!" she screamed, her voice murderous. The door to her shop slammed shut behind him, practically making the thin walls shake. She looked down at her hands, which were trembling with fury. His words had hurt her… but… she couldn't allow herself to give up just yet.

Her lips actually quivered into a smile when she thought of how he had said she was good in bed. _'Well,'_ she thought, _"I'll show 'im just 'ow good I can be."_

_UGH. I'm still not completely happy with everything that happened w/ Mrs. Lovett and Sweeney at the end there. No, I really don't like it much. But if I don't move on I'll never continue with the story. So, I'm curious, did anyone think the beginning bit was real? I was hoping it would cause some of you to be angry at how I made Sweeney OOC... it wasn't me, though! It was all Mrs. Lovett. :D Hope you all enjoyed this! Review and tell me your thoughts. 'Cause I like 'em. Thanks loves!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Wow... Ten chapters... O.o I realize that's not super-long, or anything, but... I had started this story before I had ever come across fanfiction; basically as a way to keep me from falling asleep in history class. :P It was three pages long, and only got up to seven before school was out... and I had never intended to continue with it 'til I found this site. It's now 38 pages long. So I'm very glad I did! I'm also extremely happy that people are enjoying it._

_I started this chapter sooooo well, I was on a roll... but then, right at the end, I hit a major writer's block. And it was making me mega-angry. Probably wasn't helping I was working every day this past week... ah well. This chapter's a bit slow; mostly filler stuff. But like most filler chaps, it needs to be here. Enjoy and review, loves! XD_

_The lyrics sung by Mrs. Lovett are not owned by me; they're from the song "Again I Go Unnoticed" by Dashboard Confessional_

* * *

Hours passed as Mrs. Lovett and Toby worked frantically to bake enough pies and get the shop ready for the dinner rush. Slowly but surely, the torrential rain came to a stop, and when dinnertime rolled around, Mrs. Lovett's patio was immediately filled with demanding and ravenous customers. She and Toby performed their distinct choreography together, moving fast and purposefully to meet the demands of the public and accomplish everything that needed to get done.

Mrs. Lovett weaved in and out of each table, making sure each person was satisfied as she plastered an imitated smile on her face; hiding the fact that she really just wanted to break down crying right there. She was getting extremely sick of having her biggest dreams within her grasp, and soon thereafter watching them slip right through her fingers.

No, what she really needed was just five minutes away from all this madness, and then she'd be perfectly fine… She twisted skillfully through the tables to where Toby stood refilling an obnoxiously loud man's cup of ale.

She bent down, tapping him on the shoulder to whisper in his ear. "Toby, love, I need to run down to the bakehouse for a tick. D'ya think you can manage by yourself for a couple minutes?"

Toby nodded. "O' course, mum. Jus' don't take too long," he said.

"Not to worry, love, I won't," she said, kissing his temple before they parted ways. Her feet flew down the stairs to the bakehouse and her arms went to open the door, but something stopped her. Instead, she leaned her back against the wall, ignoring the small twinge of pain from her healing injury, and slowly slid down into a sitting position. And with a shuddered breath, back heaving, tears sliding down her face, she lightly began to sing.

_'Exhale.  
Another wasted breath, again it goes unnoticed…  
I feel like I might break; out of touch, out of time.  
Please, send me anything… are we out of time?'_

Her tears stopped falling as her heart began to swell with strength. Of course they weren't out of time. She had secured them the rest of their lives that morning to figure everything out… She slowly stood up, her bad mood lifted as soon as it had came, straightening her dress as she went. Her hands swiftly went to her back to re-tie her corset as tight as it would go; her breasts now straining against the crimson and black-laced bodice. She felt beautiful…

She hated the way Sweeney still would silently brood for hours over Lucy and Johanna and the Judge… Granted, she had known it all just wouldn't disappear the moment he had sliced his razor through Turpin's throat; she wasn't that naïve. But she was trying so hard to make him see that he wasn't alone in this world, and he was still blind as ever to the fact that she was willing to do anything for him.

She allowed herself to glance down, and she smiled; delicately biting her lower lip. Maybe_ this _would open his eyes a bit.

She brought her hands up to deal with a few unruly strands of hair before venturing back out to the patio. A few people took notice of her flushed, blushing face and extremely prominent cleavage and immediately began to whisper among themselves. But Mrs. Lovett just smiled an amused smile to herself before swiftly returning to work.

* * *

Sweeney Todd was pacing, back and forth across the wooden floorboards of his tonsorial parlor; which was nothing out of the ordinary for him. But the thoughts running through his head weren't the usual ones, though this particular subject was slowly becoming more customary for him: Mrs. Lovett. He just couldn't get over that strange feeling that had filled his chest when she had uttered those three tiny words…

And he couldn't help but acknowledge that she was right. Besides initiating his creation, Lucy Barker would never have anything more to do with the life of Sweeney Todd, especially now that she was sleeping with angels. And Mrs. Lovett was right there in front of him.

The bell on his shop door sounded, and in walked a fairly average-looking man; nothing extraordinary about him at all. He politely recognized Sweeney's presence with a nod of his head before opening his mouth to speak.

"Mr. Todd, is that correct?" Sweeney wordlessly nodded; only once. "Ah, very good," the man continued. "I am in great need of your tonsorial services. I'm in a bit of a rush, you see, I've only a few hours before I must return to the docks and leave for Peru. I trust you are currently open for business?"

Sweeney forced his lips into a half-smile. So he was a sailor… a perfect candidate for meat pie filling. It had been _far_ too long since he had felt warm blood spurt forth from beneath his beloved razor.

"Of course, sir. You've indeed come to the right place. I will guarantee you the closest shave in London," he pleasantly said, removing the man's coat before offering him a seat in his barber chair.

Images of Nellie, gasping for breath as she screamed with pleasure beneath him on that very chair suddenly flashed before his eyes. He clenched his eyes shut, attempting to clear the memory from his head. But, God, did he want her… He loved how she matched his intensity; his passion instead of being a proper lady and staying quiet while he had his way with her. No, Nellie Lovett was no "lady" at all…

She was always speaking her mind, drank to her heart's content, had a temper to rival his own… Mrs. Lovett was like the exact opposite of the woman Lucy had been. Then again, Sweeney Todd was the exact opposite of the man Benjamin Barker had been.

"Excuse me, Mr. Todd?" The brunette-haired sailor brought Sweeney out of the depths of his mind. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh, yes. O' course," Sweeney responded. "Let's get started, then." He grabbed a clean white sheet from his pile and draped it around the man's neck. He was just beginning to lather up the shaving cream before the sailor again began to speak.

"So…" He cleared his throat and shifted nervously a bit in the chair. "Um… the woman downstairs… the one who runs the delectable pie shop below your tonsorial parlor?"

Sweeney froze for a moment before resuming stirring the soap into a foamy lather. "Yes, and what of her, sir?"

The sailor laughed uncomfortably. "Well…" He cleared his throat again. "She isn't… I mean, she isn't your wife, is she?"

Mr. Todd again froze; the only part of him that moved was his face as it twitched slightly. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to find words to answer him. "N-no. She's not," he whispered. He slowly whisked the brush across the man's face, feeling more and more rage towards this sailor bubble up in his throat.

Sweeney finished soaping the man's face; stepping back and glaring at him.

The sailor began to talk. Again, much to Sweeney's disdain. Why couldn't he just shut up?

"Ah, well, good…" He sharply exhaled. "She is absolutely beautiful… Those big, brown eyes?" Sweeney heard the sailor mutter under his breath. "And that dress she's wearing tonight is certainly no eyesore…"

With every word the sailor spoke, the more angry Sweeney became. He clenched his teeth firmly together. "Well… why don't you just sit back and relax sir; allow a simple barber to do his work?" Sweeney's voice was calm, but his glaring, fiery eyes proved otherwise. Finally, the man shut his mouth, shut his eyes and tipped his head back.

Mr. Todd slowly breathed, in and out, savoring that short moment of calm before he viciously sliced the razor through the man's throat. Crimson spurted out, drenching the previously white sheet. The only sound in the room was the blood, bubbling up in the sailor's throat as Sweeney stabbed his razor into his neck, over and over and over…

Finally, Sweeney stepped back, taking in the exceptional sight of his latest kill. Never before had he been filled with this much rage towards one of his "customers" before… Not since the Judge. He slowly walked over to the chair again, opening the trapdoor to send the corpse plummetting below; hitting the stone with a sickening crunch.

_We all deserve to die…_

He looked up at his reflection in the mirror; his face splattered with the thick, syrupy blood. This was the way he recognized himself best... He lingered on his mirrored image for a few moments more before crossing closer to the vanity, washing his face in the basin that sat on top of it. His face was quickly restored to its lustrous pale shade, while the cool water was now eerily tinged red.

He then glanced down at his cotton sleeves, which were now saturated sleeves. A twinge of panic settled over him before he spun around. Had Mrs. Lovett remembered to bring more clean shirts? He looked at the wicker basket in one corner of the room, which was filled to the brim with clean shirts. _'Eminently practical and appropriate as __always…'_ He easily swapped his blood-saturated shirt with a clean one; the cool, white cotton easily slipping over his head to rest loosely around his arms.

The sailor's voice replayed his final sentence in Sweeney's head. '_And that dress she's wearing tonight is certainly no eyesore…' _He burst out of his shop and onto the balcony, scanning the crowd until he spotted her. And the sudden straining in his pants that he felt at the mere sight of the woman gave truth to what the sailor had been talking about.

* * *

He was a tall, blonde and fairly decent-looking man, but he was standing inappropriately close to Mrs. Lovett; she could smell the ale on his breath. Her corset was obviously doing its job…

He reached out one hand, lightly placing it one one of her folded elbows. "So…" he said, his voice low and smooth. She shuddered lightly from his touch, horriffic images from years ago flashing before her eyes before she shoved them back into the depths of her mind. This was different. It had to be different…

This man (Allen, his name was), slowly began tracing circles upon her elbow with his index finger. "D'you think I could see you again sometime? You know… away from this, your shop, the customers?" She swallowed. This was exactly how it had started before.

Mrs. Lovett frantically looked around; people were beginning to eye them suspiciously… She then looked up at the balcony, spotting Sweeney's shadowy form looming over her. Their dark eyes met, and even from a distance, he could tell she was in a situation she desperately wanted to get out of.

Mrs. Lovett then met Allen's gaze, his dark green eyes making her feel dreadfully uncomfortable. She slowly withdrew herself from his touch. "Well… um, actually… tha' would, um…" Her voice quivered before she swallowed nervously. "I-"

"Ah, Mrs. Lovett." Sweeney had suddenly appeared at Mrs. Lovett's side, lightly placing his hand on the small of her back. She melted with relief; thankful he had come to her rescue. Sweeney attempted to smiled at Allen, but it looked more like a scowl to anyone looking at him. Allen backed away from the two, glaring slightly at Sweeney.

"I'm afraid, sir, my landlady and I have some very pressing matters that need attending to. If you'll excuse us…" Sweeney continued, guiding Mrs. Lovett away from the patio and up the stairs. She managed one charming smile at Allen before she allowed herself to be guided up the stairs by Sweeney Todd's steady hand.


	11. Chapter 11

_**First of all, I am SO sorry this took so long to get posted. I've been working a ton, and I didn't have time to think about this. Finally some inspiration hit me though, and I hope you guys are still interested in reading this! Shit, I've gotta be at work in 30 minutes... But I also hope more people than my usual readers (much as I love you guys, which is a lot) decide to check this out and review. Here it is!**_

He firmly closed the door to his barber shop, closing themselves away from the outside world.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Sweeney growled, rapidly turning away from the door to face Mrs. Lovett. He glanced briefly at her chest before bringing his gaze, full of hostility, back up to meet hers. Those brown, smouldering eyes…

"Running around, dressed like… like some common prostitute… Stupid woman, can you even fucking breathe with that bloody corset tied so tight?" His rage and lust towards her grew as she showed no offense to his words; but instead just stood there, staring at him with those eyes… He swallowed, moving his face inches away from hers. He opened his mouth with every intention to hurt her. Even for her, this behavior was ridiculous, unacceptable… And couldn't slide by without a punishment.

"You look like a whore."

To his great surprise, she laughed within her throat. In one swift movement, she brought one hand up to roughly grasp at the back of his head, the other clutching at the front of his pants. He could hear her parting her lips to speak; her chin lightly grazing his ear. "Mmm… on'y fo' you, Mr. T."

She pulled her head away from his to look into his cold, black eyes. He looked down, his mouth hanging open with a loss for words. "And… thank you for saving me down there, love," she whispered, her voice lower than her normal register. "I owe you one," she added seductively. And with one final glance and a small smile upon her pale lips she turned away, walking through the doorway at the opposite side of the parlor and down the stairs.

Sweeney continued to stand there, all sense of time forgotten; his eyes fixed on the floor as the heat within him began to rise to its boiling point. Unbelievable. He knew now this had all been simply a silly scheme of hers to bait him into sleeping with her. But, in true "Nellie Lovett" style, she had gotten a lot more than she had bargained for; getting herself into a mess of trouble. And still, after she had desperately relied on _him_ to get her out of that situation downstairs, she obviously expected him to follow after her.

He closed his eyes. The straining rigidity at the front of his pants gave away his inner struggle. But he continued to stand there, completely frozen until the moon had arisen. His lust finally won over his anger, and after one of his longest internal debates ever, he finally took a breath and descended the stairs to the living room.

* * *

Mrs. Lovett practically danced down the staircase, smiling to herself as she sat down in front of the roaring fire she had started in the hearth of the living room. Her devious plot had worked far more to her advantage than she had anticipated. Though her little encounter with Allen sent shivers down her spine, the fact that Sweeney had saved her like that made her heart swell within her chest. Her eyes fluttered closed as the warmth of the fire lightly played across her face.

'_No. It's so obvious… He doesn't really care about me. E's just so… so bloody jealous…'_ She exhaled with disgust. '_He doesn't care at all… I's pathetic, really. He's so possessive, I'll bet 'e only did wot he did 'cause he can't stand anyone even looking at the woman he's sleeping with. Pathetic,' _she thought. She hated herself for destroying her own happiness about this, but she knew it was all true. '_But…_ _having some of him is better than not having him at all.'_ Those were the words she repeated to herself every day. She sighed, coaxing herself down off that too-familiar ledge. He was paying her more attention now than he ever had before…

Suddenly, the realization settled over her that there were still customers sitting outside on the patio, and she had left Toby to deal with them all on his own. She stood up, straightening her dress and muttering profanities underneath her breath. She didn't want to go back out there and have to face all of them again… and, God, what if Allen was still out there, waiting for her? The mere thought of him made her stop dead in her tracks. Well, that solidified it. She couldn't go back out there.

"Mum! Are ya alrigh'?" Mrs. Lovett looked up from the floor and into the face of Toby; which was drawn up with concern. "Wos tha' man back there botherin' ya?" he asked, more quietly this time.

"Yeah, a bit…" she replied, her voice quivering slightly.

"Well, don' worry mum. I'll send 'im and everyone else straigh' home, if ya like. I'm gonna make sure no one else is gonna bother you tonigh'," Toby said, his voice defiant and sure.

Mrs. Lovett smiled warmly at the boy. "Aw, love," she muttered, her voice sugar-coated with affection for the boy. "That would be terrific. An'… I'm really sorry to ask you this, bu'… I'm jus' so tired, an' there's no way I can stand on my feet for two mo' seconds… D'ya think you could 'andle cleanin' the patio by yourself?" She felt terrible asking him to do it all himself; there was so much to be done. And she knew he would, just because she asked him to.

"O' course, mum. You know I'd do anythin' fo' ya," he said, smiling and pleased that he could make her a little happier. Mrs. Lovett then immediately leaned over and scooped Toby into her arms. He threw his narrow arms around her neck, and the two remained in their embrace for a while. Mrs. Lovett finally pulled away, planting a small kiss on the boy's forehead.

"Thank you so much, Toby. Fo' everything," she whispered, her brown eyes quivering with tears.

"I'm the one who should be thankin' ya…" Toby said, looking down at his shoes before bringing his gaze back up to meet hers. "I love you, mum," he said, his voice extremely small and quiet.

Mrs. Lovett was pushed to the brink of tears at his words. "I love you too, son." She smiled warmly down at him. She inhaled and exhaled very loudly. "Well…" she yawned for the effect. "I ought to be getting some sleep. Me poor bones is ready to drop,"she said, breaking the delicate mood. Toby nodded with a smile before going back out onto the patio.

Mrs. Lovett smiled after him. She was unbelievably thankful in that moment that Toby had been brought into her life. It would have been dreadful if, all this time, it had just been her and Mr. Todd. How unhappy every waking moment would have been…

She sighed, collecting her thoughts from "what could have been" and into what had really happened. Without thinking about it, she grabbed a nearly full bottle of gin and two glasses before walking back into the living room. She looked forlornly up at the staircase that led to his shop. He would come. It would take time, but he would have to come to her eventually. She then wandered into her bedroom, closing the door behind her. The vanity made a perfect resting place for the glasswear, and she paused to study her reflection in the mirror. It changed nearly every day now…

She took a step back, slowly unlacing her dress before tossing it near her amoire. She continued removing her clothes until she was down to her black-lace corset with matching panties and her black boots. She slowly unlaced the boots, placing them next to her dress, which was lying exhausted on the floor. She sighed, going back to the mirror to study her reflection again. Her auburn curls were moderately cooperating with her today.

'_Are you sure about this?'_ the nagging voice in the back of her head was asking her. '_You're only going to get hurt again…'_Mrs. Lovett rose a hand up to her ear and brushed the air, as if that would make it go away. She had never been more sure of anything in her entire life. She then decided to lay down on her bed, resting her head on her pillow. She realized now just how difficult getting through to him was going to be. But he would be completely lost if she didn't try… And so she lay there in her dark bedroom, the silence slowly surrounding her as she waited patiently for his arrival.

* * *

Sweeney Todd's footsteps were heavy and slow as he descended the staircase into the living room. The only light was coming from the fireplace; the dying embers that resided there giving off an eerie orange glow upon the walls. He stepped closer to the hot remnants of the fire, getting lost in their constant flickering and the images they played across his eyes.

Finally he jerked his gaze away from them, noticing Toby fast asleep on the love seat. Sweeney then quickly turned his back to the sleeping boy, facing the hallway which led to the closed door of Mrs. Lovett's bedroom. He slowly made his way towards it; the black hallway looming before him seeming to get longer with every step he took. However, he did reach the door eventually; his fingertips lightly brushing the faded gold doorknob. He hesitated for a moment before realizing he had waited long enough. He needed her now.

He slowly opened the door, which creaked as it gradually revealed the moonlit room before him. His eyes immediately found her, deeply asleep on her bed, wearing nothing but her underwear… The straining in the front of his pants returned; happening more often ever since they had first slept together. He slowly walked closer to her, his lips slightly parted at the sight of her. She looked unbelievably beautiful in the moonlight like this; her skin unnaturally pale… She almost looked as though she weren't human. More like a goddess…

He immediately clenched his eyes shut as this thought ran through his mind. He could _not_think of her that way! What about Lucy? This was the conflict within himself every time he even thought about Mrs. Lovett. His thoughts were a betrayal to his perfect wife, and everything they had ever shared… His eyes slowly opened again; Mrs. Lovett still breathing slowly in her slumber. However, her eyes suddenly snapped open, her brown irises black and shining in the dim lighting. A small smile slid across her pale pink lips.

"I wos beginning to wonder if you'd show up." Mrs. Lovett sat up, stretching out her arms as he remained standing there, seemingly frozen in spot. Her lips parted slightly as she looked at him. Even though they lived together, and even though she saw Sweeney every day, she could never get over how incredible he looked. So unbelievably handsome…

Finally, the anticipation between them grew to its boiling point. Neither of them could wait any longer. Sweeney rushed over to her, throwing his arms around her narrow waist as he kissed her angrily and passionately. She returned his ferocity back to him as she ran her hands through his dark hair, leaning back onto the bed as they both deepened their kiss. However, Mrs. Lovett broke away, smiling playfully up at Sweeney.

"'S been a long day, love." She broke away from him fully, standing up and walking over to the vanity where she poured two tumblers of gin. She returned to him, handing him a glass. "Nice tot o' gin'll do ya some good, eh?" They sat next to each other in silence, Mrs. Lovett slowly sipping hers as Mr. Todd downed his glass in one gulp. He suddenly stood up, quickly crossing to the vanity where he proceeded to down two more glasses.

Mrs. Lovett finished her first glass and lightly laughed. "Take it easy there, Mr. T. It'll go straigh' to your 'ead."

He whipped his head around, glaring at her and instantly changing the mood in the room. Mrs. Lovett sensed the change within him; he was rapidly becoming drunk… She swallowed, knowing what he was capable of in this state. She gasped as he threw his glass to the floor, shattering it into pieces on the wooden floor. He stormed back over to her, forcing her to lay beneath him as he resumed their lustful kiss. He could taste the gin on her breath, which masked the slightly cinnamon taste of her beneath. Sweeney pulled away from her, lingering inches away from her face; his vision clouded with alcohol.

"You really _are _a whore, aren't you, Mrs. Lovett?" His voice was gravely and low; his words slurring together slightly.

She froze, her heart nearly splitting in two. Did he really think that of her? Her eyes quivered with tears shining up at him. She was unbelievably offended that he insisted on calling her that… drunk or not, she couldn't handle being called that ever again. She shook her head, lightly pushing him away from her. She clenched her eyes shut, sending a tear streaming down her cheek and soaking into her sheets.

"_No_. I… am _not_…" she swallowed, opening her eyes again as she turned her head back to face him, "a whore."

Sweeney squinted, glaring at her before impatiently getting up onto his knees and nearly ripping off her underwear. Before Mrs. Lovett could protest, he shoved three fingers inside her, causing her to arch her back and tip her head into her pillow. Her mouth opened to emit an involuntary moan.

"Ah… see, Nellie Lovett? You _are_ a whore," Sweeney sneered. Her heart sank as he resumed moving his fingers in and out of her; her eyes closed with pleasure and disgust for herself. _He's drunk, he doesn't mean it, he's so drunk…_

Sweeney suddenly stopped, pulling away from Mrs. Lovett before clumsily taking off his pants. She shakily exhaled, trying her hardest not to cry. He stumbled over to the vanity, taking another large swig of gin before staggering back to Mrs. Lovett. He clambered back onto the bed and wasted no time before he straddled her hips and ruthlessly slammed himself into her.

She clenched her eyes shut and bit her lips together, not wanting to let any noise escape her. But even under the circumstances, it was _so _good… He continued to thrust, just violent enough to be pleasurable. Finally, Mrs. Lovett couldn't restrain herself anymore; she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him in deeper as she allowed a moan to fall from her lips.

Her eyes snapped open, however, when Sweeney clenched a hand over her mouth. "Shut up," he growled; his voice low and demanding beneath the slurred speech. "I want to see you come beneath me without making a sound." Mrs. Lovett was completely immobilized. She couldn't do anything but stare up into his face, terrified at his uncontrolled power. But still, part of her was extremely intrigued and turned on at his request. And yet another part of her was willing to do anything he said; scared of making him angry. She nodded in agreement, her eyes wide.

Sweeney then took his hand away from her mouth and quickly picked up where he had left off. However, he quickly became exceedingly violent to her; almost to the point of cruelty. She clenched her eyes shut, turning her head to viciously bite down on his arm to avoid screaming in pain. She couldn't make a sound…

Despite the intense pain Mrs. Lovett was in, she could feel that heat still rising between them; knowing they were both close… She was again filled with that immense disgust for herself.

Sweeney spoke again, his voice coated with lust. "_Look _at me when I make you come, my little whore." Mrs. Lovett winced, hurt both physically and mentally by him. Still, she found strength within herself to turn her head, looking straight up into his black eyes. He thrust extremely deep inside her, deeper than he had been before; pushing them both to their climax.

Her eyes smouldered up at him, noiselessly mouthing '_Sweeney…_' as a few more tears streamed down her cheek. Even though everything about them that evening had been so totally wrong, that moment seemed to freeze in time, the two melded painfully together; changing everything in that one instant as he came inside her.

Sweeney sat up with a slightly dazed expression on his face; almost as if he didn't know exactly what was going on. As she watched him, Mrs. Lovett felt that now-familiar rage explode from her heart, spreading throught her veins.

"I am _not _a whore, you heartless bastard. _Get out,_" she said, her voice demanding, low and murderous. He hesitated, obviously not sure of what was going on. Her anger flared, rapidly bringing her hand up to slap him visciously across the face. She immediately started crying more heavily as he finally stood up, glaring angrily at her. He then drunkenly pulled on his pants before stumbling out of her bedroom.

Mrs. Lovett crawled out of her bed, painstakingly avoiding her reflection in the mirror. She didn't want to see what it thought of her now. She slipped into a nightgown before collapsing back into bed, sobbing uncontrollably. _'That bastard… I hate him, I hate him for ever coming back here, I hate him… I hate him for making me love him.'_ She had never felt conflicted about wanting to salvage what was left of Sweeney's heart before that night. Because, the thought had never occurred to her that she just might have to completely break her own heart to save Sweeney's. And she wasn't sure anymore that was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

**_So, I'm pretty happy with this chapter, but I hope all of you are too! And some of you have been saying that Sweeney's being a total jerk. Well, he is. But it's just 'cause he's really conflicted about Mrs. Lovett, and he's dealing with it in the only way he knows how: anger. See, here's how it is. Sweeney's conflicted because he just might love her. Mrs. Lovett's conflicted because she's convinced he only wants her for her body. XD Those crazy kids... Anyways, yeah, I'd love for more people to review, so tell all your Sweeney obsessed friends about this fic, if ya like! That'd be sweet. :) I'm trying to think of an amusing anecdote to share with you all, but it's not working out too well... ah well._**


	12. Chapter 12

_First of all, I'm sorry this took so long to get posted. I've just been a bit discouraged about this story lately. I've been getting about 10 hits average a day, and I only recieved 5 reviews for my last chapter. Now, I hate to be a review whore, but the shoe fits, and I love 'em. All of you know how it is! So, per-lease, if you like this, hate this, have suggestions for me or anything, PLEASE write me a review! Everytime I get one I get so happy and more motivated to write this story. And, I have to let you guys know, I've got a terrible tendency of not finishing stories... This is the most I've ever written, ever. If you want it to end, please tell me your thoughts as of thus far! Thanks so much loves; I hope you all like this chap! It's very... dramatic, and... ah, just read it. I'll stop now. XD_

Dark, gray clouds slowly rolled in as morning dawned, blocking out the rays of the sun that normally streamed through the window to Sweeney Todd's bedroom. People were already up and about; bustling through the streets as vendors shouted in the attempt to sell their wares. Their shouts floated up, permeating the thin walls that separated Sweeney's room from the rest of the world. His onyx eyes slowly opened, the dim lighting somehow excruciatingly bright to him. His head was throbbing in time with his heartbeat as he slowly sat up; extremely hungover from the amount of gin he had consumed the previous night.

He clenched his eyes shut, attempting to block out the loud noises of the streets and to remember what had happened the night before. He remembered walking into her bedroom and seeing her asleep… He recalled them kissing passionately… He remembered her getting up and pouring them some gin, and he had proceeded to down a few more glasses… And everything was blurry after that. Try as he might, he couldn't remember what had happened between them … but he had an overwhelming feeling it had been something horrible that he'd soon regret. Something she'd never let him forget.

Slowly he crawled out of his bed, still fully clothed and extremely dizzy as he uneasily stood on his feet. He shuffled closer to the stairs, leaning on the doorway for a moment before making his way downstairs to the pie shop. The misty light streaming through the windows seemed to pierce through his eyes straight into his brain, making the throbbing even worse. He groaned as he clutched his hand to his warm face. Sweeney then wandered over to the cupboards, which had slowly become less dilapidated and dusty as both his and Mrs. Lovett's businesses flourished. He then started himself some tea and cut some bread before sitting down at the table.

Suddenly, small, shuffling footsteps made their way into the kitchen. Sweeney's jarred senses slowly stiffened, stopping mid-chew. For some reason, he felt his chest plunge slightly. If she was already coming down to the kitchen, whatever happened _couldn't _have been as bad as he felt… could it? He looked up, only to meet Toby's glance. Sweeney stared at the boy, refusing to break their gaze until Toby awkwardly backed away and began to scrub the counter tops. The condemning silence between them fell, broken only by Sweeney's slow chewing and the eventual screaming of the teapot.

Sweeney arose and crossed over to it before he was interrupted by Toby's small and timid voice. "Mornin', Mr. Todd." Sweeney's cheek twitched slightly before grunting in acknowledgement. The boiling water slowly poured into the cup as he tipped it, sending steam up to caress his face.

Sweeney hesitantly opened his mouth and spoke. "Toby… you 'aven't seen Mrs. Lovett yet this morning, 'ave you?" His voice was low and quiet.

Toby stopped scrubbing, confused at his inquiry. "Erm, no sir, I 'aven't… I'm pretty sure she's still asleep." Sweeney flinched, causing the hot water to overflow slightly onto his hand. He pressed his lips together, pointedly keeping his back to the boy.

"Thank you, lad," Sweeney said. Toby continued to stand transfixed, more confused than usual at the odd man's behavior. His warm brown eyes followed Mr. Todd's shadowy, black form as it ambled towards Mrs. Lovett's bedroom. Toby resumed cleaning the counter tops, but quietly. He kept his ears alert and listening. He wasn't going to let anything happen to his mum. Not again.

* * *

Sweeney stood before her doorway. It loomed over him; black, omniscient and daunting. He wasn't quite sure what to expect to find when he finally creaked open that door. What state would she be in? Hell, would she even be there? He closed his eyes as his chest expanded with oxygen. And as he exhaled, he extended his fingertips to clutch the patterned-gold doorknob. That creepy, slightly sinister sense that he had done this all before settled over him as the room was slowly revealed to him.

The light spilling through the window illuminated her pale face, sound asleep. She looked incredibly peaceful this way… Even from a distance, his eyes slowly traced the outline of her parted lips; observed the comforter silently rise and fall with her every breath. She was sound asleep. Sweeney clenched his teeth firmly together before averting his gaze down to the wooden floor panels. He knew instinctively that content, sleep-filled expression painted across her features would vanish the moment she laid eyes on him…

He slowly crossed over to the chair resting in the corner, making sure to keep his feet silent beneath him. Sweeney then sat down, taking one more glance at this… captivating, strange and familiar woman before burying his head in the palms of his hands. And thus began his waiting game; anticipating her awakening.

An hour came and went; the seconds ticking by as neither body in Mrs. Lovett's bedroom showed any signs of movement. Sweeney Todd remained sitting in the chair across from Mrs. Lovett's bed; his head still resting on his hands. The dust floating in the air had seemed to immobilize before a small sigh emerged from the figure resting on the mattress. The sound slowly made its way into Sweeney's mind before he sat up, his gaze immediately fixated on the mound beneath the dark crimson comforter. Slowly the figure arose, revealing a messier-than-usual shock of auburn curls. Sweeney remained completely still as Mrs. Lovett slowly opened her eyes; still unaware of his presence.

The light immediately captured them, making them glow with an aura that Sweeney had rarely seen there before. They exuded such an epic… sadness; such defeat… His mind flashed back to that night in the bakehouse; the only other time he could remember this strong being ever looking so defeated. Wordlessly he knew that he was the reason for it… just like he had been before. This was worse than he had anticipated. Mrs. Lovett slowly rose her slender fingertips to her eyes, wiping the sleep away from them. She slowly trailed them back down her face as she turned and immediately met the black gaze of Sweeney Todd.

Mrs. Lovett completely froze; her eyes wide and lips gently parted in the attempt to register the situation in front of her. Fight or flight, fight or flight… And in that instant, she chose flight. She practically leapt from the bed to her feet and bolted towards the door. No, she didn't want to face him after everything; desperately wanted to run away from it all… Sweeney, however, matched her dexterity and instantaneously caught up with her. He threw his strong arms around her slender waist, restraining her just before her hand grasped the doorknob.

Despite her immediate struggles, his grip somehow remained strong, yet gentle and nonthreatening. Sweeney pulled her close to him her curves melding perfectly into his torso. Mrs. Lovett's breathing became rapid and deep.

"Let. Me. Go," she uttered, her voice low and murderous. She stopped resisting, realizing it was pointless and became completely rigid beneath his arms. Sweeney swiftly moved his lips to her ear, in haling her floral and spice-infused scent. He felt it suited her perfectly… He then opened his lips to speak.

"Nellie," he whispered. "Wot the hell did I do to you?" At these words she turned her head away from his, struggling again in the futile attempt to get away from him. He tilted his head downward, the tip of his nose brushing the nape of her neck. "Nellie, _please_… tell me. I just… I can't remember…" His voice slowly trailed off as he realized how pathetic he sounded. Mrs. Lovett smirked, shaking her head incredulously.

"You can't remember…" she said, her voice low and quivering. "Well, 'ow bloody convenient fo' you," she uttered, her voice darkly sarcastic. Sweeney closed his eyes and clenched his teeth together. He so desperately wanted to make a sarcasm-filled remark right back in her face, but he realized that that would be a very stupid thing to do in that moment. Instead he slowly inhaled and exhaled, not loosening his grip on Mrs. Lovett at all. Something told him that this would be a conversation better had sitting down, and he began to guide her over to the bed to sit.

"C'mon," he said, "sit." He sat her down, keeping a firm grip on her shoulders. She folded her arms and pouted up at him, looking very much like a little girl getting a time out.

"I'm not bloody going anywhere, ya know," she mumbled, turning her head away from his stare. Sweeney lingered for a moment, testing her honesty before sitting down beside her. She could feel his black eyes tunneling into the side of her head, but she pointedly kept her arms folded and facing the opposite direction. The awkward silence between them settled as moments ticked past them, unheard; unnoticed. Sweeney continued to study her intently; eyeing the delicate curve of her white neck, observing the wispy curls that had escaped from the rest of her hair. Finally, the silence got to him. He hesitantly reached out his hand before lightly stroking her shoulder; becoming more sure of himself as he went. He continued to trace his hand down her arm before he shattered the heavy quiet.

"Nellie…" he whispered, just above his breath. She sighed before she finally turned around, looking him searchingly in the eyes. No… he really couldn't remember. She swallowed down the lump in her throat, continuing to stare into his eyes.

She sighed again. "Do ya _really _wanna know?" They held eye contact; neither one seeming to want to look away first. Finally Sweeney closed his eyes and nodded once. Mrs. Lovett continued the search for what lies behind Sweeney Todd's eyes before she looked away; averting her gaze towards her lap. She brought her hands to rest upon it, nervously fiddling with her fingers. She took a deep breath before she started to tell him what had happened.

"Well… first off, you drank wot was left o' that bottle o' gin. Completely drunk off your arse, you were… And… A-and then…" she paused, clenching her fingers together. "God," she whispered… "Then…" Her voice had started off confident, but had slowly faded down to something tiny and small. She raggedly exhaled. Silence again fell between them, Sweeney sensing that she would eventually tell him… but he had never been a patient man.

"Wot, Nellie, wot the bloody hell 'appened?" Mrs. Lovett sighed again, fixating her eyes down at her hands.

Her voice somehow grew smaller; almost as if it were retreating even further down inside her esophagus. "You called me Lucy… an'… an' you jus' kept fucking me… didn' matter to you tha' I wos crying…" She clenched her eyes shut; the raw emotion of what had happened rapidly coming back to her. Sweeney also clenched his eyes shut. It was slowly coming back to him in bits and pieces… He remembered slamming the gin down his throat before the bottle shattered to the floor… Then, he could see Mrs. Lovett, completely exposed, wide-eyed and frightened as he stumbled over to her… And then the entire night hit him, like a gigantic pail of ice water over his head. He had called her a whore… Which was so far from the truth; she was so strong for putting up with him day in and day out… Eleanor Lovett would _never_ stoop so low.

"Oh my God…" he whispered, slowly bringing up his hands to run through his hair. But… though he had been a complete pig, he realized he hadn't once called her Lucy. "But wait.. Wot the bloody 'ell d'ya mean I called you 'Lucy'?" Sweeney said, confusion beginning to transform into blind rage. Mrs. Lovett scoffed once.

"Oh, no, love. Ya did. Maybe not by name, but by occupation. Ya did several times, if ya recall." Mrs. Lovett whipped her head up, tossing a few stray curls out of her face. She stood up, straightening her nightgown as she went. Sweeney, however, remained sitting, attempting to take in what she had just said. It only took a moment before the meaning of what she had said settled over him, and he practically leapt to his feet to confront her.

"Wot the bloody 'ell are you talking about?!" He roared. Their faces were inches apart. "Lucy… MY Lucy wos NEVER a… a… a whore! How _dare_ you even _insinuate _that she wos-"

"Mr. T, she _wos_! After you wos sent off to Austrailia, she wos completely lost! She would wander the streets for hours, leaving me to care for lit'le Johanna! Finally, after she took that arsenic, she completely lost it! She_ wos _a whore! She wos willing to do _anything _to make a single penny! Just because you weren't 'ere to witness it doesn' mean it didn't 'appen! Because it bloody did, Sweeney, that's wot she became! She wos _weak_! Weaker than I've ever been, and I've always-" Mrs. Lovett matched Sweeney's yelling before being cut off.

"ENOUGH!! NEVER will you speak of this, ever again!" He screamed, raising his hand to slap her. However, her reflexes were too fast, and she clasped both hands around his wrist; trying her hardest to restrain him.

"Get out!" she screamed, struggling to hold on.

He visciously glared at her once before storming towards the door.

"Wait… where are you going?" Mrs. Lovett angrily asked his retreating back. He whirled around, staring at her as though she were insane.

"Are you bloody kidding me?" he asked, his voice low.

"No," Eleanor replied. "Where are you going?"

Sweeney opened and closed his mouth a couple times more before actually responding. "Up to the parlor, where the hell else would I go?" Mrs. Lovett's lips drew up into a half smile as she started shaking her head.

"No. You're not welcome 'ere anymore," she said, her voice deep and steady. Sweeney just stood there at a loss for words. Never had he seen her so… angry. "I've already sacrificed so much fo' you, Sweeney Todd. Including twenty long years I can never get back. Get the hell out of my life now. Stop 'urting me so I can finally live for _me_."

"Your sense of humor rears its ugly head at the strangest of times, Mrs. Lovett," Sweeney said, his voice acquiring her trademarked dark and sarcastic tone.

"I'm not bloody joking, you bastard. Get the hell out right now, and don't bloody make me ask you again," she said, not once moving his eyes from his. And as they continued to stare into one anothers' dark eyes, Mrs. Lovett saw… an almost hurt look reflected back at her in his eyes. It took her by surprise, but she knew she would be so far better off without him… He parted his lips something, ready to retort with some famous last words, but they never came. Instead he just turned around, pausing before he walked out her door.

But before he turned the doorknob, she came running up behind him, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to turn around. Before he could do anything, her lips crashed down on top of his as she forcefully threw her arms around his neck. He immediately kissed her back, both biting and invading one anothers' mouths with their toungues. If there had been an onlooker to this confusing display of affection, they would have probably been confused as to whether their kiss was fueled by passion or by violence.

Finally, Mrs. Lovett shoved him away, both of them out of breath. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath. "God, just go, damnit, go! Please!" Sweeney stared at her, shaking his head in disbelief at the woman standing in front of him.

"Mrs. Lovett… you're a bloody wonder," he muttered before he finally walked out of her bedroom door, closing it behind him. Mrs. Lovett was left alone, wondering if that was the last time she would ever see him. Sweeney Todd.


	13. Chapter 13

**YAY!! I can't tell you all how happy I am I finally got this chapter done! School has started for me and I already wish it was summer... though luckily inspiration hits for this when I'm in class, so I carry bits of it around with me everywhere... haha It's ridiculous. I'm really very sorry about how long this chapter took me to write; I still don't like it very much... But I figured I'd better post it and get on with the story or I'll lose motivation for it... Anyways, loves, hope the school year's started well for all of you! Okay, done rambling now. XD**

* * *

Two weeks went monotonously by, bringing with them the final hazy days of summer. Evening slowly fell upon a misty day, casting an orange glow over London. And despite the sticky humidity in the air, dinnertime at Mrs. Lovett's pie shop was busier than ever. Everything was running perfectly as she and Toby pleasantly smiled, moving gracefully in and out of the rows of tables, exchanging endless small talk with the customers as they went. Although several people had commented that the flavor of the pie had changed a bit, the overall consensus was that it had been a change for the better.

Whispered rumors were now circulating amongst Mrs. Lovett's regular customers. Granted, they had been going around ever since they had noticed her swooning at Mr. Todd whenever she thought he wasn't looking, but now… No one had seen the barber in a rather large amount of time, and Mrs. Lovett remained as bubbly as ever; even more so… Yes, something definitely unusual had been going on between the barber and their baker, though no one knew exactly what.

"Aw, why thank ya dearie, it wos really sweet of you to notice the gillyflowers in the window," Mrs. Lovett gushed as she tipped off a woman's glass of water.

"Oh, Mrs. Lovett, they are absolutely lovely… they really bring a nice touch of gentility to the place!" the woman, named Emily, exclaimed. Mrs. Lovett warmly smiled, clutching the cold, sweaty jug of water closely to her midsection.

"Thanks, love. If ya need anythin' else jus' let me know." The two women smiled politely at each other as Eleanor continued her choreographed frenzy of refilling glasses and taking more requests for pies. An older man with an overwhelmingly large beard raised and brandished his mug at her as she obligingly refilled it. However, while she was in mid-pour, another person came up and lightly tapped her shoulder. She restrained herself from sighing exasperatedly. "Just a momen'…" She turned around to meet the gaze of another man with a noticeably stubbly face and neat, wavy brown hair.

"Excuse my inquiry, but does Mr. Todd still run his tonsorial parlor above your meat pie emporium, Mrs. Lovett, ma'am? As you can see, I'm in desperate need of a shave," the man said with a somewhat pitiable smile. She froze and temporarily stopped breathing at the mere mention of _him_, but quickly recomposed herself. Her brown eyes jumped down from the man's dark blue ones to the ground.

"No. Not anymo'. Dunno where 'e's gone to… but… 'e won't be comin' back," she said, breathing deeply and slowly. The man contorted his facial features into an expression of confusion.

"Oh, but I thought that you and 'im were-" Mrs. Lovett whipped her head up to meet his gaze again, thoroughly shocked and slightly appalled at what she had just heard. Her wide eyes and slightly open mouth told the man everything he needed to know. "Oh, erm… sorry, I just… sorry." The man again attempted his awkward smile before shuffling embarrassingly away from Mrs. Lovett. Nellie looked angrily and mystified at the man's retreating back. What the hell had all that been about? She took an extremely deep breath to rope in her ready-to-rampage anger before plastering a psuedo look of happiness on her face; resuming her weaving in and out of the tables.

She and Toby worked their way through closing time; Mrs. Lovett being so checked out of the real world and into the deep complexes of her mind she hadn't even noticed that time was going by. Finally, she found herself at a standstill in the living room. Her chocolate eyes deeply closed as she let the fatigue settle over her. She was so incredibly tired of what seemed to be every citizen of London ask her where Sweeney had gone. Why did they all assume she would automatically know where he had went? Because she had no idea where the hell he would go… He wouldn't leave London, would he? No. She couldn't think about this. She shook her head and clasped her hands over her eyes. She was so incredibly tired…

Finally her feet took her to the settee where she immediately collapsed, turning her face towards the orange glow of the fire she had started. Her eyes clenched shut as her hand went to clasp the small of he back. The dull pain that resided there had gradually grown worse over the past weeks, and tonight it was worse than ever. She swallowed before reopening her eyes. Slowly but surely, she fell into the trance that the dancing shadows the fire was casting on the ceiling caused. Though she still had Toby, never had she felt such an overwhelming sense of aloneness in the world. Not since Sweeney had been shipped off to Australia fifteen long years before… Nothing would ever be the same now that he had left again, would it?

"Mum?" came a small voice from the entryway into the living room. Mrs. Lovett turned her head to look at Toby. Though she was emotionally and physically exhausted, she managed to draw her lips into a warm and genuine smile.

"Mmm? Wot is it, love?" she asked him, her voice a bit breathy. Toby took in the sight of Mrs. Lovett's face and the shadows cast across it from the fire. She had been so… sad, so distant since Mr. Todd had left, and Toby hated seeing her that way. And it made absolutely no sense to him why she missed him so much; he was always so cruel to her…

"I've finished cleanin' the tables out on the patio, and… erm… Is there anythin' I can do fo' you, mum? Maybe make ya some tea?" Toby asked, sitting down on the loveseat across from Mrs. Lovett. She then closed her eyes and smiled.

"No thanks, love, but I really appreciate you offerin'. I's late, Toby, you need to get some sleep." Toby smiled warmly and nodded before lying down on the sofa and cuddling into it. Mrs. Lovett slowly arose, clutching her back as she went. She vacantly made her way to her bedroom and changed into her nightgown. And as she softly settled into her soft and pillowy bed, she couldn't remember it ever feeling so good.

* * *

She awoke full of energy and the urge to go down to St. Dunstan's and go shopping. She quickly stepped into her favorite plum, black and lace adorned gown, repinned her hair and applied a touch of makeup before bustling down the stairs. The shop was filled with the peaceful mid-morning air, completely silent as the people outside rushed by; their mouths moving but no audible noise coming from them. To Nellie it was as if time had frozen only in the shop, as if she could watch the world go by but never actively take part in it. She stood there, completely transfixed and frozen in that moment. She mentally shook herself out of it, irritated with herself for so drastically changing the mood of her lighthearted day.

"Toby!" she yelled, straightening out her dress and organizing the few random items scattered across the counter. "I'm going down to St. Dunstan's for a bit! I'll be back before supper!" She was satisfied with his sleepy groan of acknowledgement and stepped out of the shop and joined the current of people making their way to the same destination.

She weaved through the streets, taking in the sun's warm rays along with the jumbled yells of the crowd melding together. The exposed, pale skin of her chest quickly heated up under the sun, Mrs. Lovett savouring the sensation. She couldn't remember the last time there had been such a continuous bout of good weather like this. She smiled and waved as she spotted one of her best customers before finding herself at the dressmaker's shop. It had been ages since she'd been fitted for a new gown… She always forgot the fact that she had plenty of money now; it was never a lifestyle she had had to become accustomed to.

"'Ello, Mr. Fobbs," Nellie said as she entered the dress shop.

"Ah, Mrs. Lovett! It's been far too long! Come for a new dress, 'ave you?" Mr. Fobbs was a very short, very old balding man with very large glasses. But no one ever questioned his skills with fabric. Mrs. Lovett smiled as she absently looked over all the beautiful dresses on display. Aquamarine blue, jade green, canary yellow- when she spotted the most perfect dress she had ever seen. The neckline fell off the shoulders of the mannequin, the neckline, trimmed with black lace and beads was plunging down. The front of the bodice was deep black and red, and the skirt spilling down from it was the most beautiful shade of scarlett, the front opening to reveal black ruffles of lace beneath.

"This one. I would absolutely love this one," she whispered breathlessly. Mr. Fobbs smiled as he bustled over to her.

"Ah yes, that red would definitely suit you... Do you have your specifications with you?" he asked.

"Erm, no, sir… Last time I wos in you said you 'ad them on file…" Mrs. Lovett said, shifting awkwardly. Mr. Fobbs looked at her for a moment, obviously confused. She had forgotten his memory was slowly going… He quickly went behind the counter and halfhazardly began ransacking through the large stack of papers that obviously resided there. This went on for about five minutes before he resurfaced.

"Yes…" he cleared his throat as he pushed his glasses further up onto the bridge of his nose. "I seem to have misplaced your measurements… I'm so sorry…" he said. Mrs. Lovett smiled; it wasn't a big deal.

"'S alrigh', Mr. Fobbs. No harm done. So, erm… 'ow 'bout I change into the dress and you can make any final adjustments?" This sounded reasonable to him, so he busied himself with putting the scattered papers away as Mrs. Lovett slipped into one of the changing rooms.

She emerged looking absolutely unbelievable. It was as if that dress had been designed to perfectly match her looks, her personality and every facet of her being. The red brought out the slight rose tint in her cheeks and made her tousled curls look even more firey, while the black contrasted perfectly with her milky skin. There was only one fault to the dress: the fabric stretched a bit over her lower stomach. Mr. Fobbs had been whirling around her, taking her various measurements with a weathered and torn measuring tape while muttering under his breath. Mrs. Lovett involuntarily held her own breath, but it didn't do anything to reduce the cinching around her waist.

"Well," Mr. Fobbs said, standing back and observing the dress and how it fit her. "Everything looks lovely but for the waist, and that's simple enough to let out a tad… But yes, the rest seems to fit you perfectly. It's an extremely easy modification, Mrs. Lovett, dear, stop back in about a week an' it'll be ready." She nodded and smiled rather distantly. Though she never let it show, Mrs. Lovett was extremely self-concious about how her body looked. She was naturally petite and her work in the bakehouse generally kept her particularly fit, but… Perhaps she'd been eating a bit too much lately; far too much chocolate… But she reassured herself with the knowledge that it was barely noticable and could be easily remidied.

"Tha' sounds lovely, sir. Now, I'd best be on my way, but thank ya so much fo' your time, Mr. Fobbs. I'll see ya in a week," she said.

"Alrigh', just leave the dress on the counter as you leave," he stated distractedly. Another customer had just entered and was being rather demanding, so Mr. Fobbs waved Nellie towards the changing room as he began chatting with the other customer. She quickly changed out of the dress, carefully laid it out on the counter and went back out into the street.

Ominous dark grey clouds had started rolling over the city, bringing with them the definate promise of rain. Mrs. Lovett strolled slowly against the current of people rushing to get home, arms folded protectively over her midsection. It just didn't make any sense at all to her that she had gained weight… She thought extremely hard about everything she had done the past couple weeks, but realized she had been eating considerably less since Sweeney had left… A streak of lightning flew across the sky, closely followed by a distant but deep roll of thunder. Mrs. Lovett stopped dead in her tracks, her hands clutched to her stomach as her mouth slowly fell open.

Her eyes then fluttered shut as people jostled her elbows as they passed. Memories of that last, horrible night together when he came inside her… She stopped breathing at the realization that she was pregnant. All the signs were there… She had been throwing up sometimes in the morning, her back had been aching… and she couldn't remember the last time she had bled… Raindrops slowly started to fall as she looked up to the sky, trailing down her cheeks like tears. Intuitively she knew that right this very moment she was pregnant with Sweeney Todd's child. She started shaking slightly as the rain started coming down more steadily. Slowly, as if in a trance, she made her way towards the nearest alleyway to sit down. She needed to sit down…

She gradually sunk down to the ground, not noticing she was getting completely soaked. She drew her knees close to her torso and cradled her head in her hands. This was completely unbelievable. Never, ever in her wildest dreams had she imagined this could happen… Just being able to hold him in her arms had always seemed incredibly far-fetched, and now… She was carrying his son or daughter. She would finally be a mother… This was so overwhelming to her as tears began mixing with the rainwater upon her face. Her heart swelled as she realized nothing would ever be the same…

But her heart plummeted down to her stomach again when she realized Sweeney was gone. How had everything gotten so twisted? Oh God, what would people say when they realized she was pregnant? She would probably be thrown in bedlam! She looked back up at the small sliver of the sky she could see between the two buildings, biting down viciously on her lower lip. Shakily, she inhaled and exhaled. She needed to find him; she couldn't do this alone…

Finally, after about an hour she stood, completely drenched from head to toe. Her wet, dark brown curls were plastered to her face as she wandered in the general direction of Fleet Street, her hands still clutching her stomach. She wasn't sure anymore if she was laughing or crying… Everything was so messed up and wrong… If she ever did see Sweeney again, would he even come back to her? Finally she reached her pie shop and went inside, immediately sitting down in front of the fire that was there. She couldn't think about this anymore, it was all so surreal. Slowly but surely her eyes sank closed as she hummed herself to sleep as her's and Sweeney's child grew inside of her; the child that would change everything.

**I'm SOO sorry for pulling the whole cliched "Mrs. Lovett getting pregnant" thing but I HAD to! haha Hope you all liked this; I'm still not completely happy with how it turned out... But I am excited to continue on with the story! Thank you all so much for reading this, and every review is appreciated more than you know! Much love! xoxox**


	14. Chapter 14

**_YAY!! I finally updated! I apologize; there is really no excuse for it other than sheer laziness. :( I hope you all are still interested in reading this! I also hope everyone's been well since I last updated. :) Anyways, on with the chap!_**

"Barkeep, I'll have a tumbler of gin, straight away." The bartender, who had been absentmindedly scrubbing the same glass as he leaned up against the counter jumped a bit at the sharp order.

"Straigh' away, sir," he said. Easy enough drink to make… Sweeney Todd then sat down on the bar stool furthest away from everything else; he thought best in isolation. However, it was extremely slow for a Saturday night; there was only one other man at the bar, and he appeared to have passed out. His glass of gin appeared in front of Sweeney as he then reached into his pocket and set some coins down, rattling on the counter; enough to pay for the drink. Raising the cool glass to his lips he swallowed and exhaled. How had he let it fall to this?

For the first few nights on his own he merely wandered the streets of London, hoping to eventually find a small and affordable apartment where he could stay. He eventually found it: an extremely small loft with no windows above a bookstore. It was far more run down than any place he had seen in London before (which was saying something), but it did have a legitimate roof and four walls surrounding him, which was more than he had bargained for. Out of necessity he had started another barber shop; one where the customers left with soft skin and fully intact jugular veins. It was an extremely modest enterprise, but earned him enough to keep himself alive.

At first he had adored the freedom. He thrived knowing that he could be self-sufficient, knowing that he didn't have to answer to anyone… No one relied on Sweeney Todd and Sweeney Todd relied on no one. He had his own life now, and no one could tell him otherwise. However… slowly he stopped his frequent, aimless strolls through the city's streets and alleyways. Over the two weeks since he had been on his own, he had gradually made his world smaller and smaller until nothing was left but him, his room and his razors.

He had gone back to brandishing his razors about, pacing back and forth in his minuscule apartment during all hours of the night. He didn't sleep or eat anymore, or he had just stopped noticing when he did. Material things; the world around him didn't even register anymore in his jumbled mind. He only ventured out from the labyrinth of his thoughts when he opened his shop for business, and even then his thoughts were consumed by her… but which "her" that was anymore, Sweeney wasn't exactly sure. He usually saw Lucy's hazel eyes reflected back at him in his razors' gleaming surface, but lately all he was seeing Mrs. Lovett's chocolate irises staring up into his.

Of course, his instinct was to ward off; to fight against such thoughts of her… but he had had to give it up. It was becoming inevitable now, he realized. He loathed Mrs. Lovett for tainting his perfect, untarnished memories of Lucy with her faults, and yet… every moment he had spent with her had been unbelievable. She had opened up to him a new world, and he now hated himself for slamming that door in his own face, eliminating his only chance at a renewed life. It had never occurred to him that life could go on after his revenge was complete; he had always sort of assumed that his entire life had been leading up to killing the Judge and would end immediately after… but Sweeney was quickly discovering that this wasn't the case. Life went on… and he knew he didn't want it to continue like this.

He allowed the last swallow of gin to slide down his throat before slamming the glass fimly down to the bar, commencing his short journey back to the loft. His stride was much slower and more relaxed that night. There was no internal force willing him to rush anymore… Hands in his pockets, head bowed, he watched the cracks in the pavement pass below his feet; triumphant green weeks sprouting up here and there. He lifted his head up, his gaze meeting the purple sunset on the horizon. It looked almost surreal… As if he were in a dream, as thought the very world itself were merely a figment of his mind…

There were very few people remaining outdoors at this hour. The people of London thrived at daybreak and went back behind the safe walls of their homes at sundown. However, the couple Sweeney had been distantly trailing looked in no hurry to get home. He suddenly became very aware that he had no one to walk with on nights like these. He was truly and irrevocably alone, he had done everything in his power to make sure of that. The couple suddenly stopped, as did Sweeney, though he didn't know why he did. The man leaned into the woman's ear and whispered sweet nothings to her, causing the woman to closer her eyes and smile. She then looked searchingly up at him before they kissed lightly, lacing their fingers together as they continued on their way.

Before Sweeney knew what was happening he pictured he and Mrs. Lovett in that position; imagined her smiling sweetly up at him… He stopped, both physically and mentally. He couldn't take it anymore, he needed his thoughts about Mrs. Lovett and Lucy sorted out right away. This internal argument needed to be settled, once and for all, so he could finally figure out if he wanted this renewed life with Mrs. Lovett… Or if it was even possible anymore, for that matter. He turned around and started in the direction of Hyde Park. No, the four walls and roof of his flat would be overwhelmingly restrictive, almost prison-like…

He reached the line where cobblestone met rolling grass, and as he continued on, the leaves seemed to whisper of his presence in the cool breeze. His wandering feet led him off the path, realizing he trusted them more than his memories to reach his destination. The soothing sound of a stream, stumbling over rocks on its way penetrated his ears, and he knew he was close. Finally, he stepped out into the clearing.

It was lit by the white glow of the moon and stars, illuminating the small brook and making it sparkle. The weeping willow tree had grown much larger since the last time he had sat beneath it; its long, wispy branches faintly brushing the waters' surface. He deeply inhaled as memories of summers spent beneath these trees came flooding back to him. He had escaped to this place so often as a teenager… Almost immediately, he then recalled the one time he had brought Lucy to this place. A stream of heat pierced through his chest as he remembered, before anything else, that she had complained the whole time about her skirts getting dirty and insects getting in her hair.

Why was he now dwelling on her faults? From the moment he had looked into her glassy eyes, he knew she had to be the epitome of perfection; a dream… He had thought she could do no wrong. His adoration for her had clearly blinded him from seeing she was merely human. And he had crashed cruelly back to earth when he realized Lucy had done the unforgivable. She had _abandoned_ Johanna, completely given up hope on Benjamin Barker… She had been too weak to face the truth, and it ended up consuming her in the end until there was nothing left. There was no excuse for it.

He threw a rock violently into the water, where it landed in a shallow part of the stream. It rested there for a few moments, obstructing the crystal surface of the water before it tucked beneath the surface, the flowing smoothly on its way. Those fifteen long, turmoil-filled years in prison had changed him as much as an individual person could change. And from this different place, with this different, cynically truthful view of the world, he could see… He could see just how young, naïve and immature they had been. Not a care in the world. They had, indeed, had the most picturesque form of love; the kind only known in fairy tales… But it had never truly been their own. It nearly killed him to realize it, but he knew now they had only ever followed in the steps of what they thought was love.

Granted, part of him would always love her, love the memory of her, despite what he had become. Sweeney Todd existed solely to avenge Lucy, and more importantly Johanna, but now that all was said and done… Part of him had died right along with her. But he didn't have a clue anymore as to which part of him that was. He knew it was for her that he had been 'reincarnated', but now that she was dead and gone, shouldn't he be completely gone too? Why? Why the hell was he still able to feel such powerful emotion, why was he able to feel at all now that she was gone?

He rapidly stood up and splashed the surprisingly icy water in his face. How had his simple life, created from and filled only with rage and vengeance, become so damn complicated? This answer, however, was simple.

Eleanor Lovett had come storming back into his life.

Sweeney had expected to find her pie shop abandoned when he had set foot on Fleet Street. He had obviously been mistaken from the instant he had reentered his old home; the soundtrack of her astonishment underplaying the moment. Nellie was still there. He knew now that she had waited for him all those years, waited for a man that had never been hers'… But why? He couldn't even begin to comprehend why she cared for him at all. He had been to lovestruck to acknowledge her then and… well, he knew how he was now. Every day he was consistently angry, violent, insensitive… An absolute nightmare to deal with. He had pushed the woman to her very limits, shoved her nearly over the edge of her physical and emotional limits… She had endured so much more than she deserved, a kind heart like hers'.

Finally, though, he had pushed too hard. He had stepped over that fine boundary and had paid dearly for it. Was this regret he felt? In that moment, with her hot, little body writhing underneath his, he had felt consequences were impossible. Looking back now, he didn't blame her in the slightest for slamming the door shut in his face. He had done everything in his power to make her fall out of love with him without even realizing it…

He tore his gaze from the sky and into the sparkling, tumbling black glass. Mrs. Lovett would probably love it here. Try, though he had, to block out most of her incoherent babbling (which was a majority of the time), he knew she deeply wished to live out by the sea; by the calming chaos of the crashing, foamy waves. Reflecting on this, one of her desires, he felt it suited her extremely well. The ocean was like one giant metaphor that encompassed who Nellie Lovett is. He wondered if she had ever been to this place. If, someday, she could find it in her very full heart to grant him the forgiveness he never deserved, he would bring her here. Though he couldn't give her what she deserved, the whole ocean, this would be like giving her a little part of it.

He could so vividly picture her dark eyes reflecting the water, shining beautifully as the moon bleached her already pale skin… Her eyes were looking down at him, full of lust, want, innocence, beauty, love, adoration, and so many unnameable things; her unkempt, auburn waves spilling forward, silhouetted in the moonlight… Splashing another handful of water in his face, he decided.

He needed her in his life. He couldn't even begin to justify it, but he just somehow knew… Never before had he belived in fate; he still didn't, but… She had been a part of his life for so long. But he realized that all this might be in vain. After all the hell they had both been through, there were no happy endings in their future.

_haha, I saw the opportunity to quote "Conversations With Other Women" and I took it. :P Hope you all liked it; Sweeney's inner ramblings are sometimes a bit hard to get down in words. haha XD_


	15. Chapter 15

**OH MY GOSH YOU GUYS!! Look who updated!! haha Honestly, there's no excuse for why I've been so lazy with updating. I'm really sorry, but I'm not going to guarantee that it's going to get better. :( But, don't worry, I'm not going to stop working on it. Even though it takes me forever, I am working on this whenever I can. I love these two too much to leave 'em hanging. I have an ending planned out and everything! I think what I need to do is be sure to stay two chapters ahead... I dunno. I hope you all are still interested in reading this, and don't totally hate me for taking a bajillion eons to update. To make up for it, this is seriously a super long chapter! It was 7 pages in Word. :D FINALLY, onto Chapter 15! I hope you guys like it!**

**P.S. The song I quoted in this chapter is "Wake Up" by Three Days Grace. It seemed appropriate. ;)**

_I'm not angry all the time,  
You push me down, at least you try  
Until we see this eye to eye…  
I don't want to.  
It took so long to see  
You walked away from me  
When I needed you  
Wake up, I'm pounding on the door  
I'm not the man I was before.  
Where the hell were you?  
When I needed you…  
Wake up, I'm pounding on the door  
I won't hurt you anymore  
__Where the hell are you…  
When I needed you…_

_Wake Up - Three Days Grace_

Soothing, orange flames danced on the wall, hypnotizing the eyes of its beholder. Nellie Lovett's eyelids slowly began to droop; the book she was attempting to read vaguely slipping from her fingertips. It seemed awfully ironic to her, how monotonous her life had suddenly become. Ever since Sweeney had first returned, she had longed for this sense of simplicity again. Well, she wasn't going to lie to herself. She had adored having him around after having been alone for so long. But… she also wasn't going to deny the fact that she'd hated cleaning up the evidence of his crusade against humanity. But now that he had gone again… she always wanted what she couldn't have.

She had opened her eyes since she had started pondering this matter yet again; a piece of dark chocolate melting into her fingers before liquefying on her toungue. The silence pressing down upon her ears was deafening, just like it had been each night before… and it was driving her insane. No, this sense of calm was overwhelmingly eerie, she couldn't handle it… Her eyes flitted about the room, almost daring something to change from the norm. She soon got her wish as the shadows shifted in the doorway.

Toby sauntered into sight, stumbling and obviously drunk. Mrs. Lovett's maternal instincts instantly kicked in, overriding her internal monologue about missing Sweeney.

"Toby!" she screeched, standing and quickly crossing over to him. She firmly grasped his shoulders as he swayed slightly. "Where 'ave ya been, I've been so worried, I've been sitting up waitin' for ya!" Toby answered her by closing his eyes and shaking his head. She shook him slightly, trying to keep him conscious. Toby hadn't been like this since he had first started living there… "Toby," she demanded, "speak to me!"

"You… 'aven't…" he slurred. Mrs. Lovett's eyebrows contorted with the attempt to understand him in his drunken stupor.

"'Aven't wot, son?" she asked. Her eyes peered down into his, almost scared to see what truly lay behind them. How long had it been since she had really listened to him?

"Ya 'aven' been worried! You don' care 'bout me, you only ever thinkin' of 'im!" He paused, silence accompanying Mrs. Lovett's heart as it fell to her feet. She closed her eyes. Was it true? Toby hiccuped once before continuing on. "You're the reason… I drink, don' care 'bout me…" Both Mrs. Lovett's and Toby's eyes were glistening with tears with this point as she knelt down to his level. Her slender hand slowly traced the outline of his sad face.

"Toby…" Her voice started to fail her. "I… I know I been thinkin' of 'im. But as much as I hate it, hate him…" Her hands instinctively clutched at her midsection. "I can't 'elp it anymo'." Toby glowered resentfully at her. "I'm sorry son!" A slight gasp escaped her vocal cords. "I'm so, so sorry. You couldn't begin to know how much I wish… how much I wish this were different. But it's something I can't change anymo', Toby." Silence befell them again before Mrs. Lovett was able to relocate her words.

"But… but I know now how unfair I've been to ya. I've been 'orrible… I'm so sorry…" Her big, brown eyes glistened as she looked at him, trying to comprehend what he was feeling. For the first time since Sweeney had left, she really saw her son instead of looking straight through.

Before she knew what was happening, Toby's eyelids fluttered shut as he collapsed, passing out. Mrs. Lovett reacted quickly, catching him awkwardly in her arms. "Bugger it…" she shakily whispered. Carefully, she hoisted his small body over her shoulder before gently resting him on the sofa. Placing a light kiss on his forehead, she stepped back, taking in the sight of Toby's defeated face. In that moment, she vowed to never allow her thoughts to completely consume her like that again. She couldn't let herself put Toby, or her little baby through that…

Silently, like a shadow, she made her way to the kitchen, where she poured herself a generous tumbler of gin. She took a large gulp, wincing slightly as she sat down with her head in her hands. As usual, she had started her evening out with the good intention of relaxing her over-stressed body and mind. And here she sat, more stressed out than she had been ten minutes ago. She felt wordlessly guilty. First and foremost for driving Toby away, and for shoving Sweeney out of her life… Not that he hadn't deserved it…

"Oooh, my little angel," she sighed, lightly stroking her fingers across her stomach. "I 'ope I don't bring you into this world, now it's all broken… Things will get better," she cooed. A sudden wave of calm washed over her senses as she sat, almost alone in the kitchen. But, staying true to herself, the calm was interrupted by a sudden realization as she stared at the clear glass of gin.

"Fuck!" she muttered beneath her breath. Rapidly, she stood up, grabbing the tumbler of gin and sloshing it out onto the floor. "No alcohol, you bloody idiot… " She took the bottle of gin and stood on her tip-toes to put it on the very top shelf. Out of sight, out of mind… Unless, of course, the subject matter was Sweeney Todd. It never mattered how far away he was. He was always haunting her mind.

* * *

His footsteps echoed through the nearly empty London alleyways, cobblestones accentuating each step he took. Somewhere in his single-minded subconscious he realized he had run directly into probably three people by this point, but he didn't care. Nothing else mattered… Sweeney quickly rounded the corner and abruptly stopped. His destination was right there, he was so close now…

He resumed storming towards that strange and familiar building. Towards her. He was probably an idiot for doing this, but what other choice did he have? Turning back now was not an option. Maybe, he realized, it never was.

* * *

She gingerly poked a toe into the hot tub of water before submerging her body in the soothing heat. It was late, and the consideration of trying to sleep had crossed her mind, but she knew her head was too full of thoughts to attempt it. Though the water relaxed her tense muscles, it did nothing for her mind. And so she sat, head tipped back against the tub without so much as a drop of gin to drown her thoughts in. Several minutes ticked slowly by, each second seeming to take a lifetime. She then realized why this was.

Every day, every hour, every minute since Sweeney had left, she'd been waiting for his return. No matter how much time she'd spent trying to loathe him, right beneath the surface she missed every fiber of his being. And the thing that scared her most was that no matter how much he hurt her, ignored her, despised her… It hurt worse when he wasn't there at all. She was becoming just as insane as he was…

Nellie was abruptly brought back to the real world by a distant, but loud knocking at the door. "Who the bloody 'ell could that be, at this hour?" she wondered aloud. A million potential scenarios flashed past her mind's eye, all involving loved ones in various states of emergency. Her heart was beating rapidly as she looked wildly about the bathroom, contemplating her next move. Should she waste potentially valuable time putting on her dress? No, she could run down in a towel, let them in and then put on her clothes… The knocking started again, more urgent this time.

"Oh, bugger it, who's gonna care…" she muttered, stepping out of the tub and wrapping a beige, cotton towel around her moist body. She rushed down the stairs, pulling the towel tighter around herself as she went , the knocking growing in volume as she approached the kitchen door.

"Calm down, calm down! I'm coming!" she yelled, collecting her unruly hair in her hands and throwing it onto her back. Finally, she reached the door, turning the handle to see who lay behind it. And there, staring back at her, was Sweeney Todd.

Her jaw dropped. Her eyes widened. A million emotions rushed through her nerve endings, paralyzing her where she stood. Her mind was completely blank for a few moments before she started scrambling to find words.

"Hello, Mrs. Lovett," he simply stated. So, he had beat her to it. Six simple syllables from him completely ruined the little composure she had regained. So many different versions of this scene had played out in her mind… but none of them had featured her standing there, completely immobile and incapable of speech. She stared up into his charcoal eyes in awe. Was it actually him?

"Erm…" he started, his eyes flitting over her body for a split second. "Mrs. Lovett… Are you aware you are sufficiently naked?" Her eyes narrowed. He was definitely back. And the syrupy sarcasm that coated his voice instantaneously filled her with inconsolable rage.

"You… bastard! How DARE you come back here!" She didn't have any control over her actions anymore; all she knew was that she wanted to inflict as much pain to him as possible. And though she was punching and kicking at him with all her might, he simply stood as though carved out of marble, not taking any notice of her.

"I hate you so much, I hate…" Her voice began to fail her again, a sob escaping from her throat before she could stop it. And she collapsed into a place she fit perfectly, inhaling him as she broke down. Such a display of emotion would normally have caused Sweeney to shove her away, cursing before storming up to his parlour… But instead, he grudgingly allowed her to cry. Mrs. Lovett had snaked her arms up to grasp his shoulders as she looked up at his face, tear streaks glistening on her own.

"Why?" she asked, eyes unblinking.

Sweeney flinched a bit. "Why wot?"

Mrs. Lovett pressed her head to his chest once more before replying in a barely palpable whisper, "Why did you come back?"

He opened and closed his mouth before deciding on his words. "I didn't have a choice. You didn't give me one…"

She tore her forehead away from the perfect convex of his chest to look up at him again. "Sweeney…" she whispered. Like a majority of the things he said to her, they could be taken a million different ways…But for once, she chose not to analyze it. Instead, she let out a very long sigh. "Oh, Mr. Todd…" she lightly kissed his jawbone before settling into his chest again.

"I've missed you." She clung more tightly to him, almost as if she couldn't believe it was really him just yet.

Instead of answering her, Sweeney tucked two fingers beneath her chin, lifting her gaze up to meet his. He stared into her smouldering eyes until he couldn't handle it anymore. He hungrily brought his lips down on hers. Nellie's eyes fluttered closed, unable to breathe. She'd missed this so badly… She moaned into his mouth, opening her own to deepen their kiss. Sweeney's hands went to the small of her back, pulling her in closer, while Mrs. Lovett's hands roamed up to run through his coarse head of hair. She could already feel the heat rising in her stomach; feel Sweeney's erection up against her leg…

"Wait," Sweeney mumbled, pulling away from her mouth but pressing his forehead to her's. "Where's the boy?"

Mrs. Lovett was temporarily shocked. That certainly had never stopped him before… "E's passed out love." She quickly kissed him. "Too much to drink." A smirk flashed across her lips, guiltily thanking the fact Toby wouldn't witness any of this.

"Well then, Mrs. Lovett," he said in his wonderfully familiar growl, "I seem to have chosen the perfect night to return." Wasting no time, he quickly resumed their passionate kissing. Sweeney soon picked her up, eager to relocate them to Mrs. Lovett's bedroom. _Returning to the place where it almost ended… _Mrs. Lovett smiled as she kissed the curve where his neck met his shoulder, her arms tightly wrapped around his neck. Nothing could ruin this night, nothing…

Until flashes of that night in the bakehouse passed before her eyes. _The flames, the death, his cold, black, unforgiving eyes… _Though they were ascending the stairs to her bedroom, all she could see was that night, as they ascended the stairs from the bakehouse into a totally different world… She could feel her back sting. The scars that still remained there didn't lie.

Sweeney abruptly brought her back to reality by lightly tossing her onto her bed, immediately unwrapping her towel to reveal the beautiful porcelain canvas that lay beneath. He quickly stripped down to nothing but his underwear, rapidly returning to her; his infatuation, and trailed kisses all the way down her inner thigh. Her breathing became more ragged as she closed her eyes, her own hands beginning to rove over her moist skin.

"No," Sweeney said, looking up at her caressing herself.

She looked up at him, propping herself up on her elbows. "_Wot_ are you talkin' about, love?" _'Do you know how long I've been waiting for this?' _

He got closer to her, kissing the skin above her racing heart. "I don't want you to do anything. I hurt you… last time…" He moved down, kissing the tops of her breasts. "It'll be different now." They both paused, equally shocked at the blatant honesty of his words. He stared into her chocolate eyes for a while before moving further down her body. She smiled, spreading her legs wider for him before closing her eyes again. Maybe things would be different now… But all thoughts of their future vanished into the present as Sweeney's velvet tongue ran over her clit as her back arched involuntarily. And as his tongue delved deeper inside her moans began falling from her parted lips.

"Mmmmm, Sweeney, God, don't stop now…" He kissed her clit once before he did stop, smirking at the angry remarks Nellie was giving him. He placed several kisses on her stomach before inserting a finger inside her. _That _certainly stopped her complaining… He looked up, reveling in the pleasure he was giving her was painted across her beautiful face. He went in and out of her, picking up the pace. Mrs. Lovett responded by writhing beneath him.

"No, Sweeney, stop, I'm-" She moaned exceptionally loudly as she came, loving the feeling of herself pulsing around Sweeney's fingers. He continued shoving them in and out of her as she rode out her climax before pulling them out of her, licking his fingers clean of her juices. He positioned himself so he was on top of her before kissing her passionately. Nellie adored the taste of him and herself combined as her hands clutched at his shoulder blades, already feeling the heat burning up in her abdomen again.

She pulled her tongue from his mouth. "I want _you _making me come this time," she said, her voice low with lust.

"Well, my pet, I'm fairly certain I made you come this last time, too," Sweeney smartly retorted. She rolled her eyes.

"No, you bloody idiot. I want _you_. Inside me. Now," she demanded.

"I'm sorry, love, but, that was me inside you just now as well," he said, just as sarcastically. He couldn't resist working her up like this, it was far too entertaining.

"Fine! I'm gonna bloody spell it out for ya," she said, secretly enjoying his playfulness. Oh, how she'd missed this… "I. Want. Your. Penis. Inside. Me. Now." She said, obnoxiously stressing each word. This was so perfect…

"Oooh, well, Mrs. Lovett, why didn't you just say so?" Sweeney said. They smirked at each other before she sat up, skillfully pulling his underwear down to his knees to reveal his almost painful erection. He immediately shifted on top of her again, positioning herself at her entrance… and didn't go any further. Oh, it was taking every ounce of will power he had to not take her right then and there; he so painfully wanted to slam inside her… But she had to ask for it.

"Damnit Sweeney, just fuck me already!" she practically yelled at him. How could he possibly resist when she phrased it like that? He shoved himself inside of her honeyed walls, his passion fueled by the way she tipped her head back and opened her mouth at the sensation. He went slow for a while, savouring the fact that he was inside her again. For a moment, he marveled at how much he had her under his control… But he then remembered that she was the entire reason he had come back to this place.

He then slammed into her relentlessly, making her scream in the most deliciously familiar way. And he continued to move in and out of her, going faster and penetrating her deeper than he ever had before. He soon hit a spot inside her that made her scream so loudly, he wouldn't have been even mildly surprised if the whole of London had heard her. As she climaxed, her silk walls contracting around him, he grunted with each thrust, truly surrendering to his primal instincts. He let out a low roar himself, melding with her quieter moans as he came inside her. He collapsed on top of her, though careful to support his weight with his arms.

Eleanor looked up at him, falling in love with him all over again. He was so beautiful... She tilted her head up, lightly kissing his lips in a loving, innocent way. Though her eyes fluttered closed, his own eyes flew open. She was so delicate, so loving… everything he wasn't. He didn't know how to express to her how he felt. Mostly because he didn't know how he felt. But he kissed her back, slowly but lustfully: the only way he knew how.

Her eyes flew open too. Sweeney was kissing her back. She hadn't expected him to react well when she kissed him like that… Maybe things really would be different now. She moved to turn on her side, and Sweeney finally pulled out of her. Tears sprung up in her eyes; but not because she felt empty. She was too full. He kissed her temple before he noticed she was crying again.

"Wot is it?" he inquired of her. She smiled an ironic smile.

"Just because you came home… doesn't mean I forgive you," she whispered, almost as though the softness in her voice would hurt him less. He inhaled the floral, spicy aroma of her hair.

"I know. I'm sorry." He said simply. He stood up and pulled the covers up over her shoulders. Nellie closed her eyes and smiled at the warmth of the gesture.

"I've got the scars to prove it, Sweeney. They don't lie." Sweeney moved the sheets to expose her back. Yes, her otherwise perfect skin was interrupted by the angry lines of the burns he had given her... He didn't say anything. What could he say, really?

"Um… Sweeney? I… I need to tell ya something…" Her tears started flowing again. She knew she couldn't avoid it, it needed to be said… But would it make him leave her for good? Sweeney got back onto the bed, coaxing her to sit up. He looked at the sorrow in her eyes, knowing this was something bigger than them.

"Nellie, damnit, wot is it?" he asked, his voice quiet.

Her breath shuddered as she drew her knees up to her chest. "God, I dunno how to say this… I… I'm pregnant, love." Her heart fell as she truly started sobbing into the silence. Sweeney's mouth fell open, trying to comprehend the seriousness of what she had just said.

"No. No, you're not," he said firmly.

"Yes! Yes, I bloody am, Sweeney!" she said. Why the hell didn't he believe her? Why would she make something like this up? Silence fell over them as she waited for him to say something. "Sweeney… say something," she whispered.

"Go to sleep," he said simply.

And with that he laid down, turning away from her. She sat there, trying to come up with brilliant words that would force him to talk to her… but nothing came to mind. So she laid down beside him, staring through the teary film over her eyes at his muscular back. They both lay there, completely awake, connected by the tiny, growing being in between them. Yes. Everything really would be different now…

_I'm not the man I was before... I won't hurt you anymore._

**Yay! I hope you all like that as much as I loved writing that; I love writing these two when Sweeney's being a sarcastic jerk. XD Hope everyone was happy with Sweeney's homecoming! haha Remember, please review!! They seriously make my day. Every single one of them. I love you all!! **


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